The Secrets of Hermione Granger
by KaytiSarai
Summary: Life is a game, and in the end the better player is still alive. Horcruxes are a cheat code to survival, but what happens when the enemy discovers they exist? A tale of horcruxes, betrothals, and longkept secrets.
1. House of Kowal

**Title:** The Secrets of Hermione Granger

**Chapter:** (1-?)  
**Disclaimer:** I am not J.K. Rowling, nor do I ever intend to be.  
**Author's Note:** I have rewritten this chapter _again_. So please reread this chapter if you have already read it, it's very important. I have changed small things, names and dialogue mostly.

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Chapter 1**  
_The Noble and Most Ancient House of Kowal  
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Every once in a while, a child is born that will change the course of history. In the span of two months three children were born who would not only change the world for the better, but would rid the world of an evil so bad that even the name is never spoken except by those brave enough. On July 31, Harry James Potter was born, and on the following day, Draco Lucius Malfoy was born. Both fulfill the prophecy hidden in the vaults in the Department of Mysteries. But which child would it be who will kill Voldemort? And the third child, well I'm coming to that.

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The Kowal family stems from a very old and ancient pureblood line, able to trace their line all the way back to the founders. Their ancestral home has housed many wizards of great renown, George Vincent Kowal who came up with the WWN; Zacharias Mumps who first suggested deserted marshes for the Quidditch games and whose is the only surviving manuscript of the game from so long ago, Gladys Boothby was also an ancestor of this clan. They are also the sole owners of the Nimbus Broom Company, anyone born into this family had power, wealth, and privilege, and they hold esteemed company. Not every child born into the family made it to adulthood though. Many were kidnapped in hopes to get a part of the Kowal fortune, and many of these children were never found again. So this is what leads to the beginning of this story and the reason for the hiding of Amelia Hermione Kowal.

Until Amelia was born, every Kowal had been in the House of Slytherin. This does not mean that they are the fanatical supporters of blood purity like the Death Eaters, are evil through and through, and all that hogwash. It just happens that the Kowal's are a very ambitious family, with high hopes and dreams. Ambition is their drive. Amelia was different. _Oh_ sure, she had more than her share of ambition, but she was brave too, very brave. Her childhood had ensured that. She was very cunning and very brave. The Sorting Hat decided that Amelia was a Gryffindor.

It is also apparent that to understand the Kowal family you must know what they do and who they are. Apart from their claim to a sizeable chuck of Wizarding history; they are very wealthy, have a Manor on the Riviera and in the Loire Valley; and they are the proud owners of an Unplottable Manor in England. The Kowals are strong advocates of mudblood-pureblood relations. They have even formed a society to help them. What this organization does is it takes in muggleborn witches or wizards and helps to acclimate them to the wizarding lifestyle prior to attending Hogwarts. They will learn the customs and traditions of the wizarding culture, when to use magic and when not to, they will know what is expected from them as a husband or wife, and how to tell if it is a magical person or a muggle that you meet on the street. (The secret is the in the nose and chin, sometimes the eyes tend to twinkle when the witch or wizard is extremely powerful, or simply mischievous.)

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The story begins on September 19, a very joyous day for the Kowal family. Today is the day of the birth of their second daughter. It is a beautiful day, the birds are singing, the sun is shinning and the air smells positively sweet. The perfect day for this little angel to enter the world and greet her parents, finally to attach faces to the voices she had heard around her for the nine months she had been forming in her mother's womb. The spirit of that day offered no warning to the happy parents that soon this happy day would turn scary and that only by a stroke of luck would all family members leave St. Mungo's alive.

September 19th, while a cause of celebration for the Kowals was not such a happy day of the nurses in the Infancy Ward, many innocent lives where ended on this day when Death Eaters stormed the hospital and blew apart the room of babies and nurses alike, few were spared, and even fewer saved. The Kowals and their daughter survived by the mere fact that the older sister, Airell, was brought into the room by the Kowal's groundskeepers, the Grangers, to see her newborn baby sister. Airell sat on the chair and the nurse instructed her how to hold the head and neck and to lean back slowly. It was at that moment the Infancy Ward was torn apart by Death Eater curses.

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Dumbledore was sitting in his office with a few of his most loyal followers in order to come up with a solution to the problem at hand. Voldemort wanted Amelia Kowal, but what could they do to protect this child.

"Lucius, Taliesin, Narcissa, and Rassia, I believe that I have come up with a plan that will suffice for the moment. You must understand that something more permanent must be thought of for the Kowal family. If it is alright with you, I suggest the betrothal of young Master Malfoy and Miss Kowal. It will keep her safe for the moment until we can come up with a more lasting solution."

"Professor, I understand where you are coming from with this," Said Rassia Kowal, "but how will that keep Amelia safe?"

"By betrothing her to an Inner Circle Death Eater, Voldemort may believe that Lucius is trying to get the child himself. I have complete faith in Lucius' acting abilities, the difficulty will be explaining how you convinced Taliesin to join," explained Dumbledore.

Taliesin jumped at his name, "You want me to what? Join the Death Eaters?" he spluttered, "But isn't that putting Amelia in more danger?"

"Voldemort will not hurt her if he thinks she will be of value to him, which she undoubtedly will be."

Rassia and Taliesin exchanged glances, they were troubled, Dumbledore's plan seemed foolhardy to them. They were prepared to leave England and head for Russia if need be, but staying in England and joining the Death Eaters was not their cup of tea so to speak. Besides, their family had a history of mudblood-pureblood relationship what would become of that? How could they welcome new muggle-borns to the wizarding world if they joined Voldemort?

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"Are you sure this will work?"

"It has to, you have no choice."

"But...what if it doesn't?" Taliesin whispered to Lucius as they approached the manor where Voldemort was residing for that month. It was considered an honor when Voldemort stayed at your residence. Currently he was living with the Lestranges, at their unplottable manor.

Lucius turned to Taliesin, "Look, you have to be prepared. Voldemort is skilled at occlumency. You must be prepared for him to try to probe your mind, he knows how and he will. He wants to make sure he gets only loyal followers, and you are perfectly placed for him to rid the world of more mudbloods. He _wants_ you as a Death Eater," Lucius looked around, and checked a map, "_Ah_, yes," He walked three steps to the left. Studied the tree in front of him, poked it once with his wand and the wall of ivy opened up to an empty meadow with a Manor sitting in the middle, on top of the hill, "Let's go."

Lucius and Taliesin tramped up the hill to the front door of the manor. With each step, Taliesin appeared to become stronger, more ready to take on Voldemort. His back straightened and his face hardened. Lucius could only think it was a good thing he loved his family so much, he was about to sacrifice much for them.

Finally, they reached the front door, when they stepped on the porch, the door swung open, seemingly of its own accord, but any wizard worth his salt could recognize a Trust Charm. Surprisingly, all pureblood wizard Manors have them. Only those they trust can enter the house, or if they are accompanied by someone the family trusts. They entered the house and were greeted by Bellatrix Lestrange, who welcomed them in, offered the two of them drinks, and showed them the way to the Drawing Room.

They entered the room, and immediately noticed the drop in temperature, Taliesin shivered, but then bulked up. Lucius seemed unaffected. In the middle of the dark room sat a throne, and upon it sat the Dark Lord himself who was staring at Taliesin.

"Who is this, Lucius?" Voldemort questioned. Lucius knelt before Voldemort and kissed the hem of his robes.

"Forgive me, my Lord," he murmured, "I have brought before you Taliesin Kowal who wished to join the ranks of the Death Eaters. He expressed his wishes to me in the strictest confidence, and I felt he was safe enough to bring before you, my Lord."

"Is this true, Lucius?" Voldemort stood up and began to circle the upright Taliesin Kowal, "You wish to become one of my Death Eaters? Why have you left the ranks of Dumbledore?"

"He is not providing me with the power I want. I wish to be powerful. I've heard it said, 'There is no good and evil. There is only power and those to weak to seek it.' I have realized the truth to this and I have decided that I am not weak, if you pardon me, my Lord."

"I am not yet your Lord. But, I have seen the truth to these words and will allow you to become a Death Eater. You have quoted the Lord Voldemort," Voldemort looked carefully as Taliesin, "They are true you know?" Taliesin nodded, and Voldemort continued, "Well then, I see no problem with your immediate initiation. Next month I will stay with your family at the Kowal Manor."

"You will be welcomed there," Taliesin swallowed thickly, not wanting to imagine the response of his wife to this 'joyous' news. 

"Good, Good. Then your initiation will take place tonight," He placed a finger over his Dark Mark, and spoke in Parseltongue, then turned back toward Taliesin and Lucius, "The Death Eaters will be here shortly." Within moments, they began walking into the room, usually behind the gracious Bellatrix, who was the last to join them, as she was the hostess. "It has recently come to my attention that we have a new member to initiate. This is Taliesin Kowal, and he will be initiated on this night."

With these words, the Death Eaters began to form their circles according to their ranks, the smallest circle was the Inner Circle, it included some of the more famous Dark Wizarding family members: Lucius Malfoy, Rodolphus and Bellatrix Lestrange, the Nott brothers, a young Severus Snape and Mr. Parkinson. The next circle out was larger and had fifteen members, these were the power-hungry fame-searching youngsters, sometimes sons or daughters of Inner Circle members who aspired to be like their parents, when their parents died or if they proved themselves they would join the Inner Circle. In the center of these circles stood Taliesin and Voldemort.

"Taliesin Kowal, you have requested to be allowed to join the ranks of the Death Eaters, my own personal army. What say you? Is this the truth?" The Death had all raised their wand arms, and were standing still, awaiting his answer.

"Yes, it is true. I want to serve the Dark Lord."

"Very well then," Voldemort said and raised both arms; "Will Taliesin Kowal's sponsor step forward," Lucius walked forward and placed his hand on Taliesin's shoulder, Voldemort looked at him, "Are you speaking for Taliesin Kowal?"

"I am, I have brought him here, and I will speak for him."

"Fine. Are you here of your own free will?"

"I am," Taliesin spoke, feeling Lucius' hand descend on his shoulder.

"Are you willing to sacrifice for the Ranks?"

"I am."

"Will you comply with the wishes of the Dark Lord?"

"I will."

"Lucius, will you make sure to report to me the progress of Initiate Kowal?"

"I will," Lucius responded firmly, tightening his grip on his friend's shoulder.

"Then, Ranks, welcome Taliesin Kowal to the Inner Circle!" Voldemort grinned at that moment, an evil sort of grin. The grin one saw when a person achieves their innermost dreams, and when they reach the stars. Voldemort now had what he wanted; he had the Kowals under his thumb. He'd give Taliesin the power that he craved, but it would come at a price.

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When Taliesin returned to his manor that night Rassia and Dumbledore greeted him. They were sitting in the Drawing Room, despite the late hour, in complete silence. When he walked in, Rassia ran to him and gave him a kiss, which he gratefully returned; they then sat down on the sofa and Taliesin began to talk. He told of his welcome at the Lestrange Manor, and of the initiation. But when he began to speak of next month, Rassia sprang to her feet.

"NO! Absolutely not! I will not have him in our house for a full month!"

"Rassia, there is no choice. He must stay here or he will think I am not loyal to him."

"And are you?"

"No, but I can't let him know that. He must think that I am so that we can protect our daughters. With the status of Death Eater, Amelia will be safe until she is through with her schooling, and Airell will earn a husband with a good bloodline and endless Gringott's vaults. These things are important for the continuation of the Kowal bloodline because as of yet we have no son."

"Taliesin, I wish to speak with you of a matter of great importance," Dumbledore said breaking the silence, "I believe that I have come up with another solution, but it will have to wait now. Amelia will be safe for the moment, especially with Voldemort believing that you are a loyal Death Eater. In three years time, we will make it seem as though Amelia Kowal has died," Dumbledore held up a hand at their spluttering, "By that time Draco will be too old to be betrothed to anyone, so that your betrothal will stay intact. Voldemort will meet Amelia when he comes to visit in October, and he will see that she is a beautiful child, and he will agree to the betrothal.

"The Grangers are childless are they not?" without waiting for an answer he continued on, "I am aware that Mr. Granger is a squib and have spoken with him, and he has agreed that Amelia will be allowed to take on the Granger name until after Hogwarts. By losing the Kowal name after she has 'died', she will doubly protected and Voldemort will pay no mind to the daughter of a squib and a muggle."

"But that is so preposterous! How will that ever work! We will not be able to raise our daughter!" Rassia argued.

"Rassia, I understand how shocking this for you at the moment. However, it is very clear to me that Voldemort will stop for nothing, but the death of Amelia. It is not clear to us why at the moment, but I do know that we must protect you and your children. This is the only solution that seems feasible. In addition to losing her surname, Amelia will become accustomed to being called by her second name—Hermione. Hermione was Mr. Granger's mother's name, as well as your mother's name," Dumbledore said nodding toward Rassia. His eyes gleamed, "This will work. We have to make it work. We will explain this all to Amelia, but she must always know."

Rassia eventually agreed though many tears were shed and many promises made. Amelia Hermione Kowal will become Hermione Granger, for her safety and the safety of the wizarding world

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**_3 years later_  
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The cover of The Daily Prophet on June 17 showed a picture of the Kowal family all dressed in mourning as they proceeded to enter the carriage that waited to take them all to the family cemetary. A funeral carriage that carried a small child-sized coffin preceded the carriage; inside the coffin reportedly lay the body of a one Amelia Hermione Kowal. The young child prodigy was to be remembered as brilliant, amusing, and ready for anything. She was to be mourned, for she had been loved. Dumbledore's plan had taken off without a hitch. The Grangers had gladly consented to help raise this adorable child and the Kowals reluctantly allowed Amelia to become acquainted with them. Amelia was "dead" and Hermione was born. At Hogwarts and in public that was who she was, Hermione Granger. But when she arrived home from school she became Amelia and once again she was one of Daddy's Little Girls.

In accordance to pureblood tradition, the betrothal must be terminated when one of the betrothed has died. In years later, when Draco and Amelia spoke of the odd moments they would have at school or how Hermione would be jealous when Pansy would try to seduce him. But in the end they would laugh at the silliness of it all, especially when they were out from under the shadow of Voldemort.

**Please _Read_ and _Review_!**

I'm not so sure that this chapter was very well done, I know there was some confusion with the original version and looking back there was (a lot) so I've altered the way the story goes, so please tell me if this is any better. If you read the original and then this I hope it sounds better.

KaytiSarai


	2. House of Malfoy

**Title:** The Secrets of Hermione Granger

**Chapter:** (2?)  
**Disclaimer:** I am not J.K. Rowling, nor do I ever intend to be.  
**Author's Note:** It's been forever since I have updated everything! University takes up much more time than I had ever thought and I am unwilling to sacrifice grades for Harry Potter. (gasp!) I don't even have summers free to write! Well, I'll try to update this fic, I was reading through them, and yes I am on Hiatus, but I think this fic has much more potential then I originally believed, so I'm going to try working on it. I'm also working on an original story that I hope to publish, eventually. I have been working that for over a year now, and I think it's really good. That's taking precedence over my fanfictions as well. Sorry readers. Hope you enjoy this chapter. Sorry for being such an irregular updater.

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Chapter 2**  
_The Noble and Most Ancient House of Malfoy  
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The Death Eater Meeting had gone as well as could have been hoped. Taliesin had been initiated, Voldemort had believed that Taliesin wanted to join the Death Eaters and had even made him a member of the Inner Circle, in addition to what had been planned, the last of these had been something that none had been foolish enough to hope. This additional presence in the Inner Circle means that Dumbledore now has three spies in Voldemort's inner ranks: Severus Snape, Lucius Malfoy, and Taliesin Kowal. Better odds than the Order of the Phoenix could have ever hoped for.

At the current moment, Lucius Malfoy could be found pacing his study, back and forth across the carpet. He was tracing the faded area that had been worn through by generations of Malfoys pacing their way across the study. He was pondering the actions of the Dark Lord, thinking of the vows Taliesin had taken, wondering whether their actions were for the best. Amelia was chief of Taliesin's concerns but Lucius was not precisely sure where Albus Dumbledore stood in considering the safety of one, Amelia, versus the safety of the wizarding community as a whole. As the founder of the Order of the Phoenix, Albus Dumbledore was forced to make difficult decisions. Decisions such as who should live and who should die. The Order desperately needed another spy in the Death Eaters' ranks and, to everyone's amazement, the Kowal's suddenly find themselves trapped. There is no way out, they are being forced to consider to whom they ought to turn for their survival. They had easily reached the decision of Albus Dumbledore. He stood for everything that the Kowal's upheld—the purity of blood _and_ the success of the muggle-borns. While the Kowal's do not sanction the killings of mudbloods and half-bloods, they are inclined to believe they are worth slightly more than the average muggle-born. It is a natural belief when one has succeeded for so long in one position.

Lucius slammed his fist onto the top of his desk, causing the brandy snifter to wobble. He grimaced to himself over his thoughts. He had paced his study for hours, but had reached no conclusion to his thoughts. They ran rampant in his mind; Slytherin minds do not run rampant! It was Rule 643 in the Slytherin Handbook. Slytherin minds ought to be orderly, cunning, ambitious, always seeking the next best personal payoff.

He reached for the brandy snifter, poured the brandy into a nearby crystal glass, and swallowed it all in one gulp. He clutched the glass in his hand, held it up to the flickering firelight, and examined the cut of the crystal. His face took a look of rage and in a fit of anger he threw the crystal glass at the back wall of the fireplace, where it shattered into thousands of tiny fragments. The remaining alcohol caused the flames to flare up and then die down to the merrily roaring fire that seemed to further anger Lucius Malfoy.

He walked around to the other side of the desk and sat down into the leather padded chair that had been his father's and grandfather's before him. The leather was well-worn and broken-in in all the right places. His head fell into his hands, his fingers digging themselves into his scalp. He let loose a sigh of frustration and looked down on the desk at the pieces of paper that were innocently sitting there. There was a letter from the Black family which were addressed to Narcissa, _Crazy old woman_, Lucius could not help but think; there was a letter there from his mother who was on vacation in Malta which he had not yet read. There were various bills in regards to different accounts from the variety of stores at which Narcissa shopped, and from the stores where he shopped. Numerous other pieces of paper that he had yet to look at: a memo from the groundskeeper, something about trimming the venomous tentacula growing near the southern entrance to the property; a note from the house elves requesting a restocking of the kitchens, and the list went on.

He leaned back in the chair, resting his head on the cushioned top of it. His eyes were closed and he just breathed in deeply. The bills could wait; the restocking of the kitchens he would see to tomorrow, he had to write to his mother and see to it that Narcissa actually read her mother's letter and then responded to it, she had always been rather reluctant to continue contact with her crazed family after finally escaping them. The Blacks were rather fanatic, it seemed that only a few from this generation had managed to escape, and as far as Lucius knew those that had were limited to his wife Narcissa, his sister-in-law, Andromeda who had married a muggle or something, and Sirius.

Lucius lazily pointed his wand at the fireplace, the fire died down quickly becoming only embers. He stood up from the chair behind his desk and stretched, raising his arms over his head. He strode across the study, opened the door into the hallway, and walked out. He shut the door behind him and turned down the hallway towards his bed chambers. It was dark in the home, it was quite late, Narcissa had already laid Draco down to sleep and was most likely in bed herself. _Probably reading_, he thought to himself with a smirk. He lengthened his strides, hoping to get to his room and find his wife still awake. He smirked to himself again when he reached the door to his rooms and saw a sliver of light in the gap between the bottom of the door and the floor. His face took on a predatory look and he slowly pushed open to the door.

To his surprise he saw that the bed was empty, so was the crib that stood in the corner of the room. Narcissa was no where in the room. She was not sitting at the vanity brushing her hair. She was not curled up in the chair by the bookcases reading some muggle novel. She was not sitting up in bed flicking through the latest _Witch Weekly_, nor was she in the en suite washroom. Quite puzzled, Lucius sat down the edge of the bed and began to unlace his shoes. He was in the middle of pulling off his shirt when the door opened and there stood Narcissa. She was clothed in a long, white nightgown; her hair had been brushed for the evening and was laying placidly about her shoulders, framing her face and giving her an angelic glow. She was wearing her satin dressing gown and was cooing into her arms. After overcoming the rush of desire and warmth of love he felt for his wife, Lucius realized that she was carrying Draco in her arms.

She quietly shut the door behind her and walked over to the bed. After sitting herself down on it, trying not to upset their son, she looked up at Lucius and smiled gently. Lucius felt his heart swell with pride at seeing the woman he loved with his first born son. He almost beamed back at her before remembering that such a huge smile was also against the Slytherin Handbook, Rule 243 if he remembered correctly.

"I haven't been able to make him sleep all night," Narcissa whispered to him quietly. "He keeps fussing. One moment I think he's fine, so I bring him over to his crib; and the next moment he's wailing again." She sighed pitifully with a worried expression on her face, "I feel so useless sometimes."

Lucius moved closer to her and placed his arm over her shoulders, looking down in the bundle in her arms; he tenderly ran his right index finger along his son's cheek and smiled softly, _ahh_, the beauty of paternal pride. He kissed his wife's cheek and whispered into her ear, "He just knows what he wants. He's a perfect little Malfoy." Lucius grinned wolfishly, "I can't imagine what he'll be like when he can talk."

Narcissa gave a rueful smile, "Then I'll wish for these days again, I suppose."

"Let's have Dobby bring up a thimble of brandy and some warm milk. It won't hurt for him, and should help him to sleep through the night."

"That sounds like an excellent idea."

Lucius nodded and quietly called for the house elf, Dobby. When he appeared in that filthy rag of a pillowcase, Lucius' nose crinkled up and looked down at the creature with disgust.

"What is master wanting?" Dobby asked pitifully.

"Fetch a bottle of warm milk for Draco, and add a thimble-full of brandy. He's being fussy and I can't have the Mistress up all night caring for the boy."

Dobby bowed low, his long, pencil-like nose actually touching the rug, "As Master commands." Dobby cracked out of the room and then cracked back with the warm bottle requested. He handed the bottle to Narcissa and bowed to Lucius.

"Dobby is finished, Master."

"Good night, Dobby." Lucius said with an air of dismissal.

Narcissa had risen from the bed and strolled over to the crib with a strolling gait, occasionally rocking Draco in her arms. She was still cooing to him and when she reached the crib, she placed him carefully down on his stomach. His small hand found its way to his mouth, he began sucking gently on his thumb, just as he had been sucking on the bottle. He breathed in a sigh and stayed asleep. Narcissa pulled the blankets over him, carefully pinning the corners in place. She leaned over the wooden railing and kissed his small cheek, "Sweet dreams, Draco dear." She pulled back up and smiled at her husband.

He too bent over the edge and kissed his son's cheek, "Good night, Draco." He said quietly. He reached for Narcissa's hand and pulled her towards their bed. He kissed her gently on the lips, "Thank you for such a wonderful child," he said.

Narcissa blushed prettily, "You make it easy to want children." She glanced at him, up and down and then her face took on a heavy smirk, "You're wearing far too many clothes for my taste." She began pulling clothes from his body, "Really, now!" she exclaimed as she stripped off three different shirts, "When was the last time you wore so many clothes?"

"I like to burn every outfit I where to the Death Eater meetings. I decided I didn't like those shirts."

Narcissa sighed and glanced at the clock hanging on the wall over the fireplace, "It's late we ought to get to bed."

Lucius looked at her aghast, "What! I'm still almost fully clothed here!"

Narcissa sashayed back towards the bed, "I agree, far too many," she looked over her shoulder and smirked at him, "And I said 'we ought to get to bed' I said nothing about sleeping."

Lucius smirked at her response, "How very Slytherin of you, my dear," he growled.

Narcissa pouted, "Really, I think that it's more of a Ravenclaw trait. Ravenclaw's are clever, you are merely cunning."

Lucius' eyebrow found itself lodged near his hairline, "'Merely cunning'?" Narcissa nodded to him, "I'll show _you_ merely cunning!" He pulled off the excess layers of clothing, stripping down to his underclothes and began to make his way toward her, a predatory gleam in his eyes. When he reached the end of the bed, Narcissa was flushed, he could see a little of her neck and collarbone through the gap in her nightgown and he saw that the pale skin there also was flushed. He reached down and tucked a curl of hair behind her ear. He leaned in and kissed her fully on the lips. It was full of passion and he found himself sinking into the place where only he and Narcissa existed. He felt her tremble and when she moaned into his mouth, he pulled back. He smirked at her, "Keep that in mind the next time that a Slytherin is 'merely cunning.'"

He pulled away from her and walked into the en suite washroom with a smirk plastered on his face. He heard her groan of frustration and the sound of her body as she flopped backwards on the bed with a frustrated cry. His smirk grew and he shut the door behind him.

He looked at himself in the mirror and grimaced at his expression. He was not even thirty years old yet, but he looked every inch that and then some. He performed his toilet and then walked out of the room. When he walked back into the bed chamber he saw that Narcissa was lying on her side of the bed, her back toward the washroom door. He knew that she was not asleep yet because if she were, she would not have remained in so rigid a position. He crawled into the bed next to her and flicked off the light on his bedside table. He closed his eyes and was just beginning to drift off into sleep. However, what happened next nothing could have prepared him for.

He suddenly found himself tied to the bed frame. His hands were tied to each of the two upper posters that connected to the headboard, and his feet were tied to the lower posters that were connected to the footboard. He also found himself devoid of any clothing whatsoever. He grimaced at the idea and looked around the room. He noticed that Narcissa was standing innocently near the bed in her white nightgown, hair light up from behind like the angel that she pretended to be.

"Cunning much?" Narcissa smirked, her arms crossed over her chest. She circled around the bed, looking at her husband's predicament, "My, _oh_, my!" she exclaimed, "How could something like this have happened?"

Lucius grimaced, "This is a little kinky, even for you."

"How is this kinky?" Narcissa smirked.

Lucius looked stunned for a moment, "Well," he paused, "aren't you going to, you know?"

Narcissa's smirk widened, "Is that what you think this is?" She laughed lightly, "No! No! No! No! No!" she chuckled darkly, "I'm trying to decide how long to leave you like this." She pretended to ponder a moment, "I could do it all night, I suppose. Or perhaps two nights." She looked at him again, "But, I don't want to endanger our producing any more children."

She moved closer to the bed and began tracing her index finger down along the edges of his body, she seemed very intently focused on it and Lucius was trying to ignore the sensations that her finger was causing. Unfortunately, his body was not listening to his mind. He could feel himself responding and he knew that Narcissa knew when she chuckled, "Kinky? Perhaps just little," Lucius could practically taste the smirk he could not see on her mouth in her next words, "But it seems that you are enjoying it."

She removed her hand and moved to the front of the bed. She stood there, just where he could see her and she stripped off her clothing with such a lack of fanfare that it was seductive. She crawled on top of the bed and then over his body, avoiding touching anything minus a small, erotic touch here and there. She reached his face and breathed down on him, "So, Lucius," she began, "Are the Ravenclaws winning yet? Or are the Slytherins still winning?"

Her body was so tantalizingly close that Lucius was buzzing with the sensations her scent was causing. Of course, random feather light touches were not helping him keep his mind. Unbeknownst to him, Narcissa was struggling to keep her façade up, as well. As much as she was loathe to admit it at present, her husband drove her practically insane with lust, the fact that she loved him was more than a convenient addition to their relationship.

Lucius ground out the words, "How—are—you—so—calm?"

At these words, Narcissa lost all control; she attacked his mouth, kissing him deeply. Their moans filled the night, growing in passion and desire, finally peaking as both reached their summits and rolled over the edge into the darkness of satisfaction.

Baby Draco slept soundly on in his crib, neither knowing nor caring about those curious sounds. He slept through the entire night, not waking either of his parents. When he opened his pink mouth in a wide yawn the nest morning, it was because his mother had pulled him out of the crib for his morning feeding. He did not notice the bit marks, he did not notice the faint red marks from the night before that told of the passion that had filled the room less than twelve hours previous.

Draco was perfectly content in his small world of mother, father, crib, and food. He gurgled happily to his mother after drinking his fill and waited for his father to come in and pick up him. He smiled freely, laughed quickly, and generally enjoyed the good life. He liked the small greenish creature with huge eyes, big ears, and a pointy nose. He liked pulling the ears and poking the eyes, the nose was a great place for him to lodge his fingers, and he especially liked how the creature would zoom him around the room when his parents were not around. He really liked flying through the air.

**Please _Read_ and _Review_!**

I know, I know, I know! ducks all the rotten tomatoes and random vegetables More than two years it a looong time for an update, I'm SORRY!

Those of you who don't hate me, please review this story. I promise I have most of it planned out now, and I think you'll like it. It's not written yet, but it does incorporate the HBP very well. I think you'll be pleasantly surprised when this is finished.

KaytiSarai


	3. Voldemort Calling

**Title:** The Secrets of Hermione Granger

**Chapter:** (3?)  
**Disclaimer:** I am not J.K. Rowling, nor do I ever intend to be.  
**Author's Note:** Oh boy, oh boy! Another new chapter!

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Chapter 3**  
_Voldemort Calling_  
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September ended with rain, dreary rain that sought to soak the lush green grounds of the Kowal estate. The rains were actually fulfilling their duty; the sun had been unable to peak its way through the clouds for a number of consecutive days. The grounds were soaked, water welled up from the soil when trod upon, and it formed puddles in the gravel drive from the street. All in all, it was a dreary series of days at Kowal Manor. But as dreary as the weather outside the manor was, it did not reflect the apprehension and dread that the Kowal family felt. Rassia and Taliesin were on tenterhooks around on another. Airell was barely old enough to understand the state of palpable anxiety around her, and even the house-elves were more clumsy than usual. More dishes were broken the week before the first of October than anyone could recall. Rassia was finally forced to purchase new dishes after all the old ones were broken.

The Grangers were seen around the grounds in the pouring rain, wearing their black macks and wellies, preparing for the autumn. House-elves were following them, spelling the leaves to disappear as soon as they reached the ground, charming the grass to stay green, and trying to send the excess of water elsewhere. All in all, they were failing dismally.

In the house, Rassia was sitting in the library. She was sitting in front of the fireplace with a book in her lap, it was opened, but she had not turned a page in hours. She was staring into the flames. Beside her was Amelia, who was wrapped in a swaddling blanket. She was content to just lay there staring at the ceiling, sucking on her fingers. Ever since discovering these lovely appendages, she found herself fascinated with their shape, taste, and ability. She especially loved to pull on the house-elves' ears, they were surprisingly soft to the touch.

Amelia cooed and gurgled where she lay, attracting the attention of her mother, Rassia. She looked down at her newborn and a faint smile graced her face. She reached out for Amelia and pulled her close, "_Oh_, Amelia," she whispered when the baby was tight against her chest, "What are we going to do with you?"

"Rassia," a soft voice said behind her, "It would be better to call her Hermione."

Rassia sighed, "Of course, Taliesin. You're right." She straightened her arms until the baby was looking up into Rassia's face, "I can't believe what we have to do for our daughter. I never imagined something like this."

Taliesin sat on the arm of the chair, looking down at his daughter in his wife's arms, "I would do all that is in my power to protect you. I told you how I run my life. First, I do what is important for the family, then I do what is important for the estate, after that I worry about everyone else."

"I know," Rassia said softly.

He leaned over, draping his arm across her shoulders, "I'm afraid that in protecting our family, we have to sacrifice the muggle-born relation society. I've had to make a very difficult decision, but I cannot risk losing you or our daughters."

Rassia looked down at their daughter, "Our little Hermione. I know this is difficult for you to understand, but someday you will understand the meaning of sacrifice, I just wish you didn't have to sacrifice before you even knew the word."

They sat there as a small family in quiet for a few minutes before they were interrupted by a house-elf. She knocked on the door and entered the room. Her small toga carried the Kowal family crest and was much cleaner than Dobby's pillowcase. She walked over to the chair where Taliesin and Rassia sat with their youngest daughter and paused before them. She opened her mouth, a worried look came across her features and she did not say a word.

Taliesin looked at her curious and said, "Is something wrong, Tika?"

"M—M—Master," Tika trembled, "He—he's here!"

Taliesin and Rassia paled at the news, both jumped off of the chair into standing positions. Amelia Hermione did not like the sudden movement and began to wail in earnest. Rassia looked at her daughter with a panicked expression and then down at the frightened house-elf, "Tika, take Amelia into our room and try to lay her down for her nap," Rassia ordered, she turned to leave after depositing the frightened baby into the elves' arms, but then turned back, "After that please clean our chambers from ceiling to floor. I want everything clean when I come to bed tonight."

Tika looked relieved at these orders and she walked slowly out of the room, balancing the baby carefully in her arms. Taliesin looked at his wife and smiled, "You always did have a soft spot for the house-elves."

"She was beyond frightened, she needed something tedious to do that would take her mind off of our houseguest." Rassia walked briskly across the room towards the door that Tika have left open after leaving with the baby, "If I think of him as a houseguest, this will be a much easier month."

Taliesin watched her depart the room and sighed unhappily. He looked over the fireplace and saw his father's portrait sitting there undisturbed.

The senior Kowal had a deep frown graven into his features as he fixed his only son with a look of disappointment, "How could it have got to this?" the portrait demanded.

"My whole life has recently spiraled out of control, father." Taliesin said in response, "Everything I thought I knew is being turned about and upside down. I am only going with the tides at the moment. As you know, sometimes the best thing to do is absolutely nothing. I am at that point in my life, father."

The portrait still had a deep frown on his face, but his eyes seemed more understanding, "I'm glad you remember some of the lessons I taught you. I thought it had all gone in one ear and out the other."

"I remember all of our conversations, father." Taliesin said, "I just wish we could've had more of them."

"Me too, son. Me too," the portrait said gruffly, "Go take care of the family you have that is still living. They are far more important than a dusty old portrait like myself. Don't worry, us Kowal's stick together."

"Thank you, father." Taliesin turned his back on his father's portrait and walked out of the room into the hallway beyond.

It was still early afternoon and was brightly light from the wall of windows that opened in to the courtyard. He saw that a horse-less carriage was out in front of the house, and could only wonder where Voldemort had managed to procure a thestral. There were several people gathered around the front entrance way to the house, among them he saw the bright head of his friend Lucius, and the dark sallow head that belonged to Severus. He grimaced at that head full of grease on one of his pillowcases, and that body between some of his sheets. He made the decision right then and there that whichever guest room Snape stayed in would have to be redecorated, the bedding and linens that he used burned. It was harsh, but trying to remove all that grease would take the house-elves ages. It would be unfair to subject them to that just because the man did not believe in shampoo.

He turned from the window and walked down the hallway. He turned down the main staircase and was met by a scene of utter confusion in the Grand Foyer. The house-elves, which were normally very good about remaining unseen, were literally everywhere, running every which way. The few human servants also seemed to be caught up in the general confusion and were standing against the walls looking aghast at the mass of house-elves. In the entrance way stood Rassia talking calmly to the Dark Lord. She was smiling for all it was worth and laughing at Voldemort's jokes. She had placed her hand gently on his arm and seemed to be steering him toward the dinning room. She glanced up the stairs and saw her husband standing there, the absolute picture of confusion. She sent a glare his way with a message, to organize the house-hold.

Once Rassia was through the doorway into the dinning room, and the heavy door shut, he cast a freezing charm on the whole of the foyer. Every creature froze, pleasing Taliesin very much. All that running around had been wearing on his nerves. He descended the stairs until he was just above the last step; he stopped there and observed the frozen house-elves who eyes were still rolling crazily in their sockets. Unfortunately, in freezing the entire room he had also frozen Lucius and Severus. Taliesin decided to ignore them for the moment and turned back to the frozen elves.

"What is the matter with all of you?" Taliesin said fiercely, "We have a very important houseguest and you are all running around like hippogriffs with their heads cut off." He sent a glare around the room, noticing that all the eyes were now focused on him, "I'm going to remove the charm and you are going to return to your duties. I want a dinner in the dinning room in no more than twenty minutes. Is that clear?" Upon realizing the folly of this question, everyone besides him was frozen, they were unable to show that they understood, he released the charm.

A few of the elves tripped over one another, especially those who had been perched on one leg. Quick as a blink, all the house-elves vanished in one loud crack. The human servants were still standing in the foyer, looking around in slight terror. They all began to move again after a few moments. Some headed toward the dinning room to take care of the guests; others had turned to the luggage that had been left to pile up in the foyer. The Chief of Staff turned to Taliesin and offered him a weak, apologetic smile.

Taliesin returned the smile and turned to Lucius and Severus. Lucius cracked his neck, releasing the build up of nitrogen in his joints there. Severus shot him a look of disgust and crossed his arms over his chest.

"Servants not ready for the Dark Lord?" stated Lucius, though he had phrased it as a question.

Taliesin just rolled his eyes, "Come on, I want to get into the dinning room. I don't want to leave Rassia with him."

Lucius nodded and the three of them walked into the dinning room. The doors shut behind them with a loud bang. Taliesin winced as the sound echoed around the dinning room. He saw Rassia and Voldemort looking at the tapestries that adorned the wall. Voldemort seemed fascinated with their history. They were standing before a particularly gruesome one that had been in the family for a number of centuries. It showed Taliesin's great ancestors battling in the Goblin Rebellion, casting a fearful hex at a particularly ugly wizard.

Taliesin could barely hear his wife explaining how the Kowals had backed the freedom of the goblins since time immemorial. She was speaking of the Goblin Rebellion in 1612 when the goblins used the Hogmeade Inn as headquarters. She mentioned that Archibald Kowal was the owner of the Inn at the time and was more than willing to secrete the goblins in the Inn.

"Archibald Kowal?" questioned Voldemort.

"Yes," Rassia answered, she looked toward the tapestry, "That's him there," she said pointing to a man that greatly resembled Taliesin. "He was an advocate for creatures' rights. He would've been great friends had he known Oswald Beamish. Unfortunately that was almost three hundred years after Archibald's time."

Taliesin strode across the dinning room, nearing the couple that was looking up at the Tapestries. He listened for a few moments more and decided it was time to intervene, "What type of stories are you telling about my ancestors?" Taliesin said jovially.

Rassia turned around and smiled at him, "Only the worst possible kind, dear."

"_Oh_?"

"The true ones."

"_Ah_!" said Taliesin. "Have you seen the tapestries on the other side of the room?" Taliesin gestured across the room to the other side where the wall was covered from floor to ceiling in tapestries documenting the history of the Kowal family. Taliesin looked around the room with a gleam akin to pride, "Did you know that all of the tapestries in this room have been completed by Kowal women?" He gestured across the room again, "Those were finished long before the 1600s. If you would like to see their work."

Voldemort looked across the room at the hanging tapestries, "I think I'll pass on the offer," he said coolly, "I'm enjoying this tapestry here. Your ancestor was helpful in the beginning of goblin liberation." He mused, "Are you still in contact with the goblins?"

Taliesin hesitated, "Only occasionally at Gringotts. We don't know any other goblins."

Voldemort actually looked slightly disappointed, "No matter then, I'll just have to find another way to achieve that end."

"May I inquire what end that is?" Taliesin asked slowly.

Voldemort studied his face a moment and then said, "The goblins hold enmity against the wizards. It would be marvelous were they to join our side. It would increase our ranks by a significant amount." Voldemort's eyes gleamed, "Imagine the power we would wield then, we would have complete control over the economics of the wizarding world. We could cause inflation or recession. We would hold the wizarding world captive by its purse."

Taliesin swallowed and put a smile on his face, "That would be a wonderful prospect. I wish that my ancestors never let that particular connection crumble. It would prove most helpful now."

"One thing at a time," Voldemort said, "There are times to sit back and wait, right now is not one of them."

"Of course not," agreed Taliesin. He looked to his wife who was standing to the side quietly, "Rassia, do you know when dinner will be served?"

She looked startled at the address, "I shall go find out. It will be shortly, gentleman." She left the room through a door at the other end of the room.

Taliesin turned to Voldemort, "Is there anything that I can get you?"

"No, no," he said, waving his hand, "Your servants are most capable. After that debacle in the foyer, they have proved themselves to be useful."

Taliesin smiled, "Yes, they were most surprised at your appearance here. I've taken care of the problem. The house-elves have gone and shut their fingers in all the ovens, ironed their ears, and put on shoes three-sized too small. I'll take care of the human servants later."

Voldemort turned a shrewd eye on Taliesin, "Any mudbloods or squibs in your employ?"

"Only the one."

"Which one is that?"

"Mr. Granger, the groundskeeper."

"And why is he working here?" Voldemort hissed.

"Family obligation." Taliesin sighed, "My grandmother is his great Aunt, and unfortunately his father produced a squib. Terrible to have such blight on the family name. If I keep him here, well, then there's no chance of anyone finding out." Taliesin paused, "I can trust you with this family secret?"

Voldemort looked delighted, "But of course you can! We are, after all, business associates. Of a sort." He paused a moment, "And you've placed that squib where he deserves to be! Serving the purebloods. Splendid job! I knew that you would make a perfect Death Eater."

Taliesin smiled at Voldemort, "I've always upheld blood purity, my Lord. The mudbloods that were educated by us always learned how proper it is to serve their betters."

A bell rang down at the far end of the room, Voldemort and Taliesin turned around and saw that the once empty dinning table had been filled to bursting with dishes, food, and drinks. Rassia stood primly at the other end of the table and smiled at the two of them. She said, "Dinner is ready, gentlemen. If you would please take your seats."

Voldemort sat down at the end of the table, to the left of the seat at the table's head. Taliesin approached Rassia and smiled at her, he took her hand and led her to the seat on the right side, he pulled out the chair and gently helped her to sit down. He then sat down at the head of the table. Severus and Lucius found themselves sitting on either side of the table, Lucius was next to Rassia, He smiled covertly to her and patted her hand in reassurance. Voldemort had the misfortune of Severus sitting next to him. Voldemort flashed a look of disgust at his follower's hair but realized it would be beyond rude to request that he sit himself at the far end. As soon as everyone was seated, the human servants began to serve the dinner.

While they were eating, Taliesin took care to note that Voldemort's manners left much to be desired. He chewed with his mouth open, talked before swallowing, and he was using his soup spoon to eat his peas. Taliesin looked at his wife and noted that she was pale. She too noticed the number of peas that were escaping Voldemort's mouth and becoming lodged in the carpet under the table. She saw how close the wine glass was to the edge of the table and was restraining herself from requesting the Dark Lord to move it closer to the center. His napkin we still in its ring and was resting to the side of his plate where he had tossed it. Decorum was not Lord Voldemort's second name, apparently.

Fortunately, dinner passed quickly as conversation was stilted at best. After the meal, Rassia stayed behind to make sure that the house-elves managed to find every single pea and piece of salmon that found its way under Voldemort's chair. Taliesin led Lucius, Severus, and Voldemort to the study, the fire was burning low, making the room feel dark and intimate. Severus sat down in one of the high backed chairs in front of the fireplace, Lucius sat down across from him, and Voldemort remained standing, his arms folded behind his back.

Taliesin turned to the small bar behind the door and poured four glasses of brandy. He brought the first to Voldemort and handed the other to Severus. He picked up the other two glasses and passed the one on to Lucius who accepted it graciously. Taliesin swirled the contents and took a sip. He noticed that Voldemort was still standing there in front of the fireplace, just gazing into the flames.

The four waited in the silence and the dark of the room, just drinking the brandy from their glasses and staring quietly into that fire. The silence was finally broken when Voldemort spoke up, "Taliesin, you have been most gracious welcoming me into your home."

Taliesin started at the acknowledgement, but quickly demurred, "My Lord, you are a guest in my house. I will do what I can to make you feel welcome here."

Voldemort nodded, "You have a beautiful wife."

"Thank you, my Lord."

"You have children?"

"Yes, I have two daughters."

"I would like to meet them tomorrow."

"They are very young, my Lord. They have no understanding of what you do."

Voldemort nodded again, "The younger they are, the easier they are to train."

Taliesin looked slightly ill at this prospect, but he nodded nonetheless, "I want nothing but the best for my two daughters."

"Excellent," Voldemort smiled at the occupants of the room, "I think I'll head to bed now, Taliesin. Can you have one of your servants show me the way?"

"I can take you there myself, my Lord."

"There is no need to inconvenience yourself, a servant will do nicely."

"Yes, my Lord," Taliesin walked over to the bar again and pulled the cord that was suspended from the ceiling, a moment later a serving man knocked and entered the room.

"You rang, Master?" he said, standing just inside the door, his arms folded behind his back.

"Show the Dark Lord to his chambers."

"Yes, Master Kowal," the servant bowed at the waist, looked expectantly at Voldemort and gestured through the doorway, "This way my Lord."

The pair walked out of the door and into the darkened hallway. After the door closed, the other three occupants of the room stared at each other in silence. When they were sure that Voldemort was out of hearing range, Taliesin flopped onto the long sofa in front of the fire. It was an uncharacteristic gesture and Lucius and Severus exchanged worried looks. Taliesin groaned into his hands in what could have been a stifled yell.

"I can not believe I'm letting that monster meet my children!" he exclaimed.

Lucius' eyes widened in understanding, he leaned back into the chair and reached for the cigar box that was sitting on the side table. He pulled one out and took it out of the wrapped, holding his wand to the end of the cigar he let it and took in a long drag and letting it out, filling the air with the vanilla fragrance. Taliesin sat up when he caught of whiff of the scent and looked at Lucius who threw another cigar to Taliesin. He lit the end and dragged on it, letting it go, watching the smoke float up to the ceiling and then dissipate.

Lucius took another drag of the cigar, "He won't hurt Airell or Amelia," he said letting the smoke come out with the words.

"I know," said Taliesin quietly, "He needs daughters to bear more damned Death Eaters."

Severus gave a soft smile, "How are Airell and Amelia going to accept meeting him?"

"Amelia is less than a month old; she won't understand anything that's happening. Airell is the one I'm worried about," admitted Taliesin.

"Why?" asked Severus.

"Because she's too young to understand 'Be quiet!' or 'Don't make fun of the red eyes!' She just doesn't understand that sort of command yet, she's only four years old."

Severus and Lucius shared a look, Lucius stood from his chair, stretched out and yawned, "Well, I think it's time for me to get to bed."

"I agree," said Severus through a large yawn.

"Yes, I need to see Rassia and my daughters. I need to hug every single one of them," said Taliesin rising from the sofa, "Then I need to go to bed."

Taliesin pointed his wand at the fireplace, reducing the flickering flames to embers, plunging the room into darkness. The three walked across the room and into the hallway, carefully shutting the door behind them.

"Good night, Severus and Lucius," said Taliesin through a yawn, "I trust you know how to find your chambers?"

"Of course, Taliesin," said Lucius, "Good night, Taliesin.

"Good night," said Severus.

Taliesin headed in the opposite direction of Lucius and Severus. He walked slowly down the dark hallway, thinking to himself. One day down, only thirty left to go.

**Please _Read_ and _Review_!**

I am looking for some feed-back on this fic. I'm hoping that people are enjoying it. I really like how it's turning out, even though it is moving very slowly right now. Alright, well, this is two updates in one day, so I'm taking a break. I might have another chapter up tomorrow, but don't count on it. I also can't promise that this rate will continue. I hope you keep reading.

KaytiSarai


	4. Breakfast with Voldemort

**Title:** The Secrets of Hermione Granger

**Chapter:** (4?)  
**Disclaimer:** I am not J.K. Rowling, nor do I ever intend to be.  
**Author's Note:** I've finished the outline for this story. I have between twenty-five and thirty chapters planned for the length of the story. We'll see how it goes.

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Chapter 4  
**_Breakfast with Voldemort_  
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The next morning dawned still dreary and rainy. The rain seemed reluctant to stop. The servants had been up now for hours, dusting and cleaning the manor for the Kowals and their guests. When Taliesin rose that morning he felt a sense of overwhelming dread pour over him, dousing him from head to toe as though someone had dumped a bucket of ice water over him. He shivered under the covers and closed his eyes in trepidation of the day. He slowly opened his eyes and peered around the dark room. The servants had not yet been in to draw the drapes, keeping the room in darkness. He sat up and noticed that Rassia had already woken up, her spot next to him vacant. Pushing the covers back, he swung his legs over the edge of the bed and put his feet on the floor. He rose from the bed and blearily made his way over to the large window on his side of the bed. He pushed back the heavy drapes and peered out onto the grounds.

He grimaced when he saw that the sky was still dark and overcast with rain falling at a steady pace. He released the drape and let it swing back into place. He walked into the en suite washroom and looked into the mirror, noting the circles under his eyes and the terrible bed-head that plagued him. He frowned at his appearance and ran the water in the sink, washing his face in the cool water.

"Honey, that ain't going to help you," said a sarcastic voice above his head.

"Thanks," Taliesin replied wryly to the mirror over the sink. He walked over to the toilet and sat down on the closed lid, and frowned at the mirror, "There isn't much that is able to help me."

"It's not all that bad, sonny," said the mirror in a gentle voice.

"It's all bad."

"That's not true! You can spell away those grey hairs, charm the wrinkles, and if you use a comb I'm sure you'll be able to brush out that nest you try to pass off as hair."

"I wasn't speaking about my appearance," said Taliesin dryly, "I have grey hairs?" he questioned in a fit of vanity.

"Just a few above your temples."

"Great," he groaned, his head falling into his hands, "I'm only twenty-eight and I already have grey hair."

"In some circles it's considered distinguished," said the mirror soothingly.

"Yes! If you're old!" Taliesin bristled.

"Well, I suppose," said the mirror hesitatingly. The voice behind the glass sighed, "The grey isn't really all that noticeable. I didn't notice until you bent to wash your face."

Taliesin looked scathingly at the mirror, "You didn't notice until I was only a few centimeters from you?"

"Nope," said the mirror in a cheery voice, "Isn't that comforting?"

"I should replace you for a muggle mirror. You cause more stress than a teenaged mandragora."

"I resent that!" replied the mirror in a highly affronted tone, "You're being paged, by the way. It seems that Rassia would like to serve breakfast and you are the only one missing."

"Fine, tell her that I'll be down in a few minutes."

"Sure thing. I'm sure the mirror over the kitchen hearth loves being used as a messenger."

"You are mirrors! Get over it for now. Don't forget that I can have you easily replaced."

The mirror fell silent, but as Taliesin left the room he heard, "Someone woke on the wrong side of the bed this morning!" muttered behind him. He slammed the door on the talkative mirror and quickly dressed himself in a pair of robes.

He left the room and walked down the hallway toward the steps leading to the first floor. He entered the kitchen and saw his wife sitting at the table have a cup of tea with Lord Voldemort. It presented an unnerving picture, but he forced a smile on his face and walked over to join them, stopping to pour a cuppa from the tea cozy sitting on the kitchen counter. He stirred in a spoonful of sugar and walked over to the table. He said good morning, kissed Rassia on the head, and then sat down in between the two.

Voldemort looked at Taliesin and smirked, "I don't get a good morning kiss?"

Taliesin blanched, "Did you want one?"

"Not particularly," Voldemort made a face, "Good morning to you."

"Good morning, my Lord," he looked at the table and noticed that there were only the cups that they were drinking from on it, "Have you had breakfast yet?"

"No," smiled Rassia, "We were waiting for you to join us."

"Have you been waiting long?"

"Long enough to want to eat a chimera!" exclaimed Voldemort, "I am very hungry."

The house-elves seemed to come out of the woodwork and began to serve the three a warm breakfast. Voldemort's breakfast manners were even less appealing than those he'd shown the night before. The egg was rapidly forming a trail between his plate and his mouth, much falling onto his lap and the floor below his chair. He generously spread marmalade on his pieces of toast, much of it falling to the table. Breakfast was a quick affair, neither Rassia nor Taliesin eating much in the way of food.

As soon as Voldemort finished his last bite of toast, he pushed the plate away and smiled at Rassia, "You have splendid house-elves, and their cooking is delicious."

"Thank you," she said, still slightly pale at the amount of food all over the place.

"Now," said Voldemort, standing up and pushing back his chair, "I want to meet your fine children."

Rassia paled further, "Airell and Amelia?"

"Yes," said Voldemort, "Your children are the future of our cause. I want to meet them."

"Certainly," Taliesin said in a firm voice, "I think Airell is still asleep, I'll see about waking her. Amelia is with her nurse. I'll bring them both to you in the lounge." He looked at the ceiling, "I suppose in a half an hour? Airell is fussy about waking."

Voldemort nodded, "Excellent, I think I shall take a tour of the dinning room again. I think those tapestries are fascinating. Rassia, would you care to join me?"

Rassia hesitated and then said, "I think that Taliesin will need help rousing Airell. She is most finicky in the mornings, but I can send a servant along with you to explain the tapestries if you have any questions."

"No, no," objected Voldemort, "I will just look on them. I would rather hear their history from you."

Rassia blushed and looked expectantly at Taliesin, "Well? Let's try and wake Airell."

"This I am not looking forward to," he grimaced, causing Voldemort to laugh loudly.

"I can't wait to meet this daughter of yours," he looked positively delighted, "I'll see you both in a half hour." He excited the room through the door that led into the dinning room, leaving Rassia and Taliesin standing there with wan features.

They looked at each other and then at the mess on the table where Voldemort had been sitting. House-elves swarmed over the mess, tutting over the amount of food on the table and the floor. After a moment, the table was sparkling again with no evidence of its former disaster.

"Let's go wake Airell," said Rassia.

"Alright," he said. He paused a moment and turned to his wife, "Have Lucius and Severus left us already?"

"Yes, Lucius stopped in the kitchen, he said he'd received an urgent owl from Narcissa. Something to do with Draco, I believe. He was in a bit of a rush. Severus said he had to stop in Diagon Alley and pick up some boomslang skin. The Apothecary was supposed to get a new shipment in and you know how Severus is with his potions ingredients."

"Yes, of course. I had wondered when they weren't at breakfast." Taliesin walked to the door that led to the hallway, "Well, let's collect Airell. I think she's reading in her room. I heard her talking to a house-elf when I passed her door on my way to breakfast."

They walked out of the room together, down the hallway and then climbed the second staircase that led to just outside their daughter's door. Taliesin turned the handle and pushed open the heavy door that led to his daughter's room. Inside they found that Airell was sitting calmly in the window seat reading the comic _The Adventures of Martin Miggs, the Mad Muggle_, she was holding a stuffed unicorn in one hand and the comic book in the other. She looked up when she heard the door open and smiled at her parents when they walked in.

"Good morning!" she said cheerily.

"Good morning," said Taliesin. He walked over and sat next to her on the window seat, "Martin Miggs, eh?"

"Yes, he's very silly for a muggle. Aunty Jane is not like him at all!" she exclaimed.

"Well, Martin Miggs is a parody," said Rassia kneeling on the floor in front of her daughter.

"What's a parody, mum?" Airell asked, eyes wide.

Rassia smiled, "A parody is a way of writing. The author makes fun of the subject."

Airell looked thoughtful for a moment, "So M.R. Gibson is making fun of muggles?"

"Yes, very good," Taliesin said.

Airell looked at the cover of the book which depicted Martin chasing a trolley down a steep hill, tripping over a rut, rolling down the rest of the street and then almost being hit by a bus. She frowned at the picture, looked at her parents with as stern a look as a four year old can come up with, and said, "I'm never reading another comic!" She put the book back in its place on the shelf, glared heartily at it and then turned to her parents.

Taliesin blinked at his daughters actions and then laughed, "Definitely a Kowal, that one!"

"You think so?" said Rassia, "I think that look is quite similar to a Prince's."

Taliesin shivered, "Nope. She's a Kowal through and through, nothing to do with the Prince family at all." He looked at his daughter, "We need you to get dressed into some robes."

"I don't like robes," Airell pouted, "They're hot and itchy. May I please wear something muggle?"

"Sorry, you have to put on robes," he turned and looked at his wife, "You know what Voldemort wants better than I do, so I think I'll leave you to dress Airell. I'll go and entertain," he sneered, "my Lord."

"Careful with those sneers, darling," said Rassia, "I wouldn't want Airell picking up on that horrid Slytherin habit," she sighed, "I'll find something suitable. You can go and make sure that the tapestries are still in one piece. I'm sure that Voldemort has taken more than a passing interest in them."

Taliesin leaned in and kissed his wife on the cheek, "Yes, I'm sure you're right. Don't forget to get Amelia dressed into a robe, also." He knelt down to his daughter and smiled, "I want you to look all pretty for me alright?"

"Yes, daddy." Airell rolled her eyes.

Taliesin walked out of his daughter's bedroom and down the hallway. He paused next to a window and looked out into the dreary, relentless weather.

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Voldemort pushed open the door between the kitchen and the dinning room. He found that it was much drearier during the day when the myriad of candles was not lit. He glanced out the large floor-to-ceiling French-paned windows and saw the rolling clouds stretching out into the horizon. As he neared the glass, huge lightning bolts flashed through the heavens, illuminating the sodden earth below. Voldemort watched the rain fall onto the patio outside, forming puddles and rivers leading down to the soil below. The thunder was crashing above in the roiling clouds, he crossed his arms and continued to stare out the window until an almighty crash on the opposite side of the room cause him to about-face.

On the opposite side of the table stood a sheepish house-elf who was kneeling on her knees, busily sweeping up bits of china and glass. The elf was muttering to itself about all different manners of punishment that would be suitable for such a terrible act. When the elf had managed to clean up the whole mess and vanish it, she looked up and her eyes fell upon Voldemort. The elf let out a frightened squeak and quickly lowered its head.

Voldemort laughed at the poor elf's predicament, "What have you gone and done, elf?" he demanded.

The elf flushed from ears to toes, "No—no—nothing, my Lord."

Voldemort laughed harshly again, "You've broken another of your mistress' dishes, haven't you?"

"Yes, my Lord," said the elf in a small voice.

"I suppose I might be able to keep this to myself," said Voldemort in a slow tone, "If you were to do a small favor for me." He ended the sentence with a hideous grin, and a red glint in his eyes.

"My Lord?" questioned the elf.

"I want you to keep an eye on the Kowals. I don't trust them." Voldemort spat on the carpet in the dinning room.

The elf looked horrified, "Spy on my masters?" she squeaked out, "I—I—I can't do that!"

Voldemort grinned at the elf, "You can't or you won't?"

"My Lord, I—I—I can't! I am bonded to this family!" she managed to squeak out again.

Voldemort looked thoughtful, "No? Well, in that case _Crucio!_" he bellowed, pointing his wand at the helpless elf who suddenly found her body twitching on the floor, her mind twisting within itself. Thousands of needles and knives tearing her apart from the inside out. Her body flopped on the floor, her mouth open but issuing no scream. Her eyes were shut tight and tears leaked from beneath the lids, tears colored bright green. She was crying blood.

A door slammed shut at the other end of the room, Voldemort abruptly ended the curse. Hurried footsteps echoed on the wooden floor and Taliesin appeared from the shadows. He shot a look at Voldemort and then looked down at his house-elf.

"Tika?" he turned back to Voldemort, "Why are you cursing my elf?"

"She broke a number of Rassia's dishes."

"House-elves punish themselves!" Taliesin said venomously, "She would have shut her fingers in a door somewhere, ironed her ears, or drank rancid milk. Something! I don't know! But in this household we do not punish the elves."

Voldemort's eyes turned red, "You don't punish these pathetic beings?" he said sourly.

"Of course, not!"

"Then how will you torture muggles?"

"We have been training mudbloods, we can do the same with the muggles. If we train them to punish themselves then we'll still be domineering but will have free time to enjoy."

"You don't get joy from twisting someone's body? You don't love to hear their screams of agony?" Voldemort walked closer to Taliesin, "You don't feel that rush of adrenaline that comes from watching something pathetic squirm at the end of your wand?"

"No, I don't."

"Then you will make a useless Death Eater," spat Voldemort.

"You've said that our house-elves prepare the best food! They keep the house the cleanest out of all manors that you've been to where they work. We've managed that without periodically taking them out and beating them! They beat themselves! What could be better?"

"Death Eaters bring death to those less worthy. They bring that death by pain, by torture, by humiliation!" he stepped closer, "We are creating a society where muggles and mudbloods are subservient to us!"

"Yes! So am I!"

"How will you make a person torture themselves?" whispered Voldemort.

"Training," whispered Taliesin. "How do you think the house-elves learned about torturing themselves if they failed? They were taught to do it!"

Voldemort looked startled for a moment. He walked away from Taliesin and began pacing around the room. He stopped and fixed his red-eyed look on Taliesin, "The house-elves were taught self-injury?"

"Yes!" Taliesin exclaimed breathlessly, "Centuries ago!"

"The Death Eaters could teach this to the muggles and mudbloods?"

Taliesin hesitated, "I don't see why not," he said finally.

"_Hmm_," said Voldemort, his chin in his hand, "No, no," he decided, "I prefer things this way. There's nothing like a blood-curdling scream to wake a person up in the morning."

Taliesin looked sickened for a moment. He opened his mouth to say something, then hesitated. He swallowed and began again, "Airell is only four, my Lord. I'd appreciate it very much if you didn't torture the house-elves in front of her."

Voldemort looked thoughtful, "I'll grant you that. She is your daughter."

"Thank-you, my Lord. Rassia was just dressing them when I came down to see you. She should be down shortly."

Voldemort nodded and walked over to the tapestry of the goblin rebellion, "Did your ancestors really do all that Rassia was saying they did?"

Taliesin nodded, "That and more," he walked over to join Voldemort in front of the tapestry, "The Kowal family has had more than its share of visionaries and thinkers."

"And you just want a place in the family line?" suggested Voldemort.

"How do you mean?" said Taliesin hesitatingly.

"You had ancestors who spearheaded the goblin rebellion, ancestors who were great Quidditch players, who were important in the Ministry. You want your name in the history books. You want your name to last through the ages, to be remembered for all time."

"Yes," said Taliesin softly, "I want my descendents to be standing where I am someday, looking at a tapestry and saying 'That is my great ancestor Taliesin Kowal.'"

"And what do you want to be remembered for?" Voldemort said quietly.

"Power," he answered immediately, "Having a lot of power."

Voldemort laughed softly, "Yes," he put his hand on Taliesin's shoulder, "Perhaps you are perfect for a Death Eater after all."

A sound at the end of the hallway caused both men to turn around, a small house-elf was standing there, trembling in the doorway. He approached the pair with small mincing footsteps and finally stopped in front of Taliesin.

"Is something wrong, Tchotchke?" Taliesin asked in a concerned voice.

"Mistress sent Tchotchke. Mistress is in the lounge with little Mistresses."

"Thank you, Tchotchke." Taliesin turned to Voldemort, "Well, shall we?"

"Yes," his eyes gleamed, "I would love to meet Miss Airell and Miss Amelia."

**:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:**

Taliesin and Voldemort entered the Kowal's lounge. Rassia was sitting on the sofa with the baby Amelia wrapped in a small swaddling robe, and Airell was sitting, straight-backed, beside her. Rassia had managed to force Airell into a light-blue, airy robe. Airell tried to force a smile onto her frightened face but did not succeed.

She slid to the ground and stood up, as tall as she could make herself. She then attempted a graceful curtsey, but only managed to lose her balance. Fortunately, Rassia was able to prevent Airell from falling to the floor.

Voldemort smiled at the young girl and walked over to her. He knelt down in front of her and presented her with a chocolate bar from his pocket, "Here you are, Miss Airell," he said gently.

The little girl gasped, "Is this Honeyduke's?"

"Yes," said Voldemort, chuckling, "I thought that you would like a small bit of chocolate."

"I love chocolate!" exclaimed Airell, she turned to her mother and said, "Mummy, can I take this from him?"

"Certainly, darling. Now, why don' you introduce yourself like a proper young lady?"

Airell's eyes widened and she nodded at her mother. She turned back to Voldemort and offered a weak smile. She dipped a curtsey again, this time without tottering over, and said in a small voice, "My name is Airell Kiora Kowal. Pleased to make your—" she faltered for a second, tripping over the next word, "ac—quain—tance." She smiled broadly upon realizing that she had successfully said such a long word. She looked up to Voldemort for approval, who just smiled.

Voldemort reached for her small hand, gave it a gentle kiss, "I am called Lord Voldemort. I am pleased to meet such a lovely young lady."

Airell giggled, and then tried to say his name, "Vol—de—" she stopped, trying to fit the next piece to her tongue, "—mort?"

"Very good!" said Voldemort, "But I think for such a wonderful person as yourself, you may call me Uncle Tom."

"Uncle Tom?" said Airell uncertainly, she then nodded, "Uncle Tom!" She rushed forward and offered the man before her a hug. Voldemort looked startled at the girl's show of affection, but he wrapped his arms around the little body nonetheless and smiled while doing it. Airell released Voldemort and smiled to him, "I have a sister!" she said proudly, "Her name is Amelia. It begins with an 'A' just like mine!"

"Very good," said Taliesin, speaking up from behind Voldemort, "I'm glad that your lettering is coming along so well."

"Thank-you, daddy," blushed Airell.

Voldemort walked over to where Rassia was still seated on the sofa with little Amelia. He looked on the tiny face of the month old baby and smiled at the wrinkled, red complexion.

"You have a lovely family here," Voldemort said, surprising Taliesin and Rassia. "Take care of your children, never forget they exist and love one another fully. Do not treat your children as though they are baggage to be shuffled from one place to another." Voldemort looked startled at his pronouncement.

Taliesin cleared his throat and smiled, "Thank you, my lord. I love both Airell and Amelia very much. I could not live without either of them."

"Good," said Voldemort, "Now what's this I hear about a betrothal?"

Taliesin looked startled, "Betrothal?"

"Between Draco and Amelia? Lucius was telling me during the ride over from the Lestranges," he waved a hand, "Bloody Ministry mucking around with Apparition licenses, I can't get anywhere anymore by apparition or floo."

"_Ah_! Yes. Lucius and I had discussed the idea but felt it would be better if the idea were approved by you."

"I think it's a splendid idea. It will link two of the most powerful families on our side. Such binding ties will forge powerful alliances. Imagine the sheer political power that Draco Malfoy will have with Amelia as his wife!"

Rassia looked slightly ill at the idea, but she smiled, "Anything for our children and the Dark Lord."

"And rightly so!" declared Taliesin, "We will perform the charms next month, by then Amelia's magic will begin to show. We can link them magically and legally that way."

"Excellent," said Voldemort, he smiled, "Now, if I recall, I believe Lucius said something about you having a squash court?"

"Yes, we do have one. Would you fancy a game?"

"Perhaps," said Voldemort, "But I haven't the faintest idea how to play. Would you care to teach me?"

"It would be my honor," said Taliesin with a smile. He turned to his family and knelt before Airell, "Be a good girl for mummy, alright?" he kissed her on the head and smiled.

"Of course, daddy," she rolled her eyes.

"Good girl," he turned to his wife and other daughter, "I'll see you later? Do you think you can have luncheon ready around one in the afternoon?"

"Of course, darling," she leaned up and kissed his cheek, "I'll send Tika down to the courts when it's all prepared."

Taliesin turned to his youngest daughter, "You will make us all so proud!" he kissed her small cheek and stroked some of the soft, curly brown hair on top of her head, "You'll have my hair, little one." He kissed her cheek again and smiled. A soft cough behind him caused him to look up from Amelia.

Voldemort was looking at him funny, "You'll see them in a few hours, you know?"

"Of course, I just…love my family," Taliesin admitted. "I would do anything to keep them safe." Another cough behind him from Rassia caused Taliesin to realize what he had just said, "Well? Let's get to the squash courts. There is a lot to teach you if you want to be a master at the sport."

They turned out of the room when a small voice called from behind them, "Good-bye Daddy and Uncle Tom!"

Taliesin stole a look at 'his Lord' and could have sworn he saw his features soften just a little bit.

**Please _Read_** **and _Review_!**

Well, I hope you liked this new chapter, it's ten pages long! My longest chapter yet, and I think they're going to keep growing in length. I'm actually a little bit behind on my outline, but I can make that up in chapters that have less information…I hope.

Oh! And I know that you all want to see more Hermione and Draco, but trust me it will be there. Since I'm also taking care of the Horcruxes, I have to lay down a base story. Hermione and Draco will be here in probably two or three chapters.

KaytiSarai


	5. Owls and Bad News

**Title:** The Secrets of Hermione Granger

**Chapter:** (5?)  
**Disclaimer:** I am not J.K. Rowling, nor do I ever intend to be.  
**Author's Note:** I have nothing. If you'd like to read the author's note, there's a very long one at the very bottom.

**:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:  
Chapter 5**  
_Owls and Bad News  
_**:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:**

Narcissa was sitting calmly at the small table in the kitchen of Malfoy Manor; the _Daily Prophet_ was spread before her with all the news of the recent Death Eater sightings and killings. She sighed disgustedly upon reading about the death of the Bones family in Coventry. She flipped the page over and on the next page was an enlarged picture of her husband. Narcissa's eyes widened and she quickly skimmed the article. Fortunately, it only concerned his latest donations to St. Mungo's Hospital.

She took a small sip from her tea cup and looked up as a house-elf set a plate in front of her. She thanked the elf and began to nibble on the toast and eggs while continuing to read the paper. Suddenly a bell rang throughout the kitchen and Narcissa looked up to the opened window and saw an owl was perched in the cage. She walked over to the creature and saw that he had a letter and a small vial with some silvery liquid inside. Curious, she reached for the owl who obediently held out his leg, Narcissa detached the letter and the vial. She held the vial up to the sunlight and saw the contents swirling about. With a frown she set the vial on the countertop and broke the seal on the letter. She opened the letter and saw her cousin's precise lettering and began to read:

_Narcissa,_

_I have stumbled upon information that I shouldn't know,  
but it is information that I am scared not to share. I couldn't  
leave this memory in my head for fear of the Dark Lord's skill as  
an occlumens. This is something that I definitely should not know!  
I need you to please keep this memory safe for me._

_Whatever you do, please do not look at it!_

_Your cousin,  
Regulus Black_

Narcissa finished the letter and looked curiously at the vial. Her curiosity was now piqued; any order to **not** look at something is almost as good as ensuring that it happens. She pulled the stopper out of the vial and delicately sniffed the silvery liquid. It didn't have any sort of odor. She pushed the stopper back into the vial firmly and then turned around.

She marched out of the kitchen, up the steps and into the master bedroom. She opened her vanity and pulled a stoneware bowl towards her; its contents were shimmering and swirling incessantly around the bowl. Narcissa unstoppered the vial once again and upended it over the stoneware bowl. She held her hand out and cast a nonverbal _Accio!_ causing her wand to fly over from the bedside table. She prodded her wand into the small pensieve and watched as the liquid began to swirl faster and faster, eventually becoming a clear, swirling vortex. A small window appeared in the middle of the dish. Narcissa tied her hair back and leaned down to look into the small window.

Her body fell forwards, into the dark room below. She looked around and realized that she was in some derelict building, clad in only her nightgown. Frowning she looked up and saw her handsome cousin, Regulus, kneeling in the dark behind a mahogany banister. Voices were floating down the stairs and it was obvious that Regulus was eavesdropping. Narcissa strode over to him and try to pull his ear, but she gasped when her hand went through his head. She pulled her hand back to her and looked carefully at it. She patted her stomach and sides and noticed that she felt solid. She reached over Regulus' head and touched the banister, it seemed solid enough. She tried to touch Regulus again and stifled a gasp when her hand went through his seemingly solid body.

"I am not going to accept that!" floated down the stairs. Narcissa's ears perked up as she heard the voices.

"My Lord," begged a pained voice, "There must be another way!" Narcissa narrowed her eyes, she knew that voice, it continued talking, "That cave is next to impossible to get to, how will you manage to protect it from so far away?"

A high, cold laugh drifted down the stairs, "My dear Bellatrix! I, who have gone further down the road to immortality than even Nicholas Flammel, can manage to cast powerful protection spells. Spells that not even the great Dumbledore could manage to break through!"

"I don't understand why you wish to place Slytherin's locket in such a remote location. It's only a locket, my Lord. Let Dumbledore have it," argued the voice of Bellatrix.

"It was my mother's locket, and long before that it belonged to the great Salazar Slytherin. I am his descendant. I _must_ protect my meager inheritance from gutter-snipe like Borgin," said Voldemort.

"It is only a locket, my Lord!" exclaimed Bellatrix again.

"It is not only a locket!" roared Voldemort, "It is a seventh of my soul! If anything were to happen to me, I want you to retrieve the locket and bring me back! I must rise again!"

"How will I manage to get this locket if it's behind all these enchantments that you've placed around it," said Bellatrix in a smug sort of tone.

"I've told you how you must get to it! It's a simple matter of finding the chain and drinking the potion. You must finish the entire potion to reach the horcrux. May I suggest bringing a partner with you?" Voldemort laughed his high-pitched laugh again, "You may find yourself quite a bit—"

The memory suddenly ended and Narcissa was thrown from the pensieve, she found herself sitting at her desk, quite a bit winded from her sudden travel through time. She hazarded a glance at the pensieve and noticed that a figure had risen out of it. Bellatrix was turning gently and muttering something to herself. Narcissa leaned closer and she could just make out, "The Lord is further than you know, Narcissa. He has done a number of great things, things that not even Dumbledore could do!"

Bellatrix's form collapsed into the pensieve and Narcissa leaned back in her chair. She had no idea what a horcrux was, and she had no idea how to even get one. She stood from the chair and wandered over to the wardrobe that held her autumnal robes. After choosing one, she dressed and combed out her long, blonde hair. Draco was sitting calmly in his crib playing with small Quidditch players. She smiled at him and picked him up out of the crib.

They walked out of the room and into Lucius' study. After placing Draco down carefully on the floor, she sat down at his desk and pulled a piece of parchment toward her. She inked the quill and wrote:

_Lucius,_

And stopped. She raised her eyes to the ceiling in thought. _How does I phrase all the thoughts running through my mind?_ She pondered. She set the quill to the parchment again and began to write.

_I need you home at once! I think Draco has taken ill and I can't  
possibly apparate or floo with him, my hand is shaking too much  
to hold my wand steady. Please, come quickly!_

_Love,  
Narcissa_

She folded the parchment into three sections and pulled the sealing wax to her. She held her wand to the end of the waxen stick and cast a heating spell at it. The wax dripped onto the paper, forming a small pool. Narcissa pulled the Malfoy seal towards her and stamped it into the cooling wax, effectively sealing the letter.

She called the owl to her side from his perch near the window, "I need you to take this to Lucius." The owl nipped her finger affectionately and flew out the open window. Narcissa sat back in the large leather chair that had been in the Malfoy family for generations and closed her eyes to the world. She knew that she had just lied to her husband; she knew that she had just lied to the Kowals, but most important, she knew that she had just lied to Lord Voldemort.

Moments after sending the letter, heavy footsteps sounded down the hallway and the door burst open. Lucius was standing in the doorway with a fearful look upon his face, "Where is he? We have to get to St. Mungo's now!"

Narcissa remained where she was seated, stunned at Lucius' response to her letter, "Lucius," she said weakly.

"Get up!" he walked across the room to Draco and picked him up, he then walked over to Narcissa, reaching for her hand, "We have to get to St. Mungo's!"

"No!" Narcissa said loudly, "Draco's not ill!"

Lucius looked stunned, "What do you mean he's not ill? I got an owl from you saying that he was!"

"Yes, I sent it."

"Why did you tell me my son was ill if he isn't?" Lucius' features were becoming darker, his brows had snapped down and a frown had appeared on his face.

"I had an urgent owl from my cousin. I needed you here. I think this is something that you need to see."

"What are you talking about?" Lucius asked, clearly angry and now puzzled.

"What's a horcrux?" asked Narcissa suddenly.

"A—what?"

"A horcrux! Do you know what it is?"

"No. Why?"

Narcissa sighed, "I have a feeling that it is a very bad thing. I'm not sure what it is exactly. But I know that it isn't good."

Lucius walked over to the bookcases that were lining the walls of his study. He strolled from one to the other, occasionally pausing to look at the titles of the books. He finally stopped at one particular set of bookcases. He scanned the titles on the shelf second to the top and stopped at one. He removed it from the shelf and flipped to the index in the back. Narcissa could hear him muttering to himself before his small exclamation of success.

"It's in this one, here," he flipped to the page indicated and began reading out loud, "The horcrux is a matter of the greatest Dark Magic. It is the implementation of living matter into non-living matter. A wizard may, by murder, split his very soul apart and then transfer half into an inanimate object, most likely a small trinket. This object is now considered a 'horcrux.' 'The creation of a Horcrux," cautions Herpo the Foul (ancient Greek Dark Wizard and first creator of the dread basilisk), "results in the continual feeling of being incomplete. If I'd known that I could never have sex again, I would have never created the damned thing!' A horcrux could be the worst way to try and prevent death. This author suggests reading the theories of Jabir ibn Hayyan, also known as Geber, for the creation of the _philosophi lapis_, or the philosopher's stone. The philosopher's stone…" Lucius trailed off and shut the book, "It continues on talking about the properties of the stone," he explained, "That's all that it says about horcruxes."

Narcissa's features were drawn, "Isn't that enough?"

Lucius placed the book back into its location, "I think I had better owl Albus. He'll want to see this memory that you received."

Narcissa nodded blankly. She stood from the chair and walked over to Draco. She picked him up and put him on her hip, "I think I'm going to put Draco in Dobby's care for now. I'll leave you to owl Albus."

At that moment an owl soared in the window and landed on Lucius' desk. Lucius walked over to his desk and untied the parchment from the owl's leg. He unrolled it and frowned when he saw the Kowal seal on the outside. After breaking the seal he unfolded the letter and began to read out loud:

"Lucius, Voldemort has agreed to the betrothal. He grants us full blessing to magically bind the children sometime next month after Amelia begins to exhibit her powers," Lucius looked up at Narcissa.

"He's agreed to it?" she said.

"That's what it says. Hold on, it continues, 'Taliesin and Voldemort are playing squash down on the courts at the moment. I hope that Draco is well, Taliesin and I will stop by after dinner to check up on our future son-in-law. Love from, Rassia.'"

"_Oh_, dear!" Narcissa gasped, "I'll have to owl them, also!"

"No!" said Lucius firmly, "We'll pretend that Draco is ill, we can't have Voldemort knowing that you lied. I'm going to owl Albus now, you place Draco with the elves. I want to do more research on horcruxes, so I need you to go to Flourish and Blotts and see if they have anything."

Narcissa nodded, "I suppose I can't ask if they have a book on horcruxes, eh?" she said wryly.

"I think that is highly inadvisable," Lucius frowned.

"Yes, dear, I know." Narcissa turned to leave the room but turned around, "By the way, the memory is in my pensieve. I left it out on my vanity."

Lucius nodded to her and watched as she left the room with Draco on her hip. He collapsed into his leather chair and groaned. He reached for a piece of parchment, inked a quill and tried to decide how to put this all into a short letter. He set the quill to the parchment and began to write. When he was done, he noticed that he had covered over six feet of parchment. He sighed to himself and feed the entire scroll to the fire. He pulled another piece of parchment forward and began work on an abbreviated version of events.

_Albus,_

_The child is suddenly ill. I'm afraid that there isn't  
anything good that can come of this illness. Would you  
please visit Malfoy Manor and see if there is anything  
you know that could help us in this matter? I'm finding  
myself at a loss and believe that you are the only one  
that can help. Any advice that you can give would be  
most appreciated._

_Lucius Malfoy_

Lucius read the note over, trying to see if this would seem as anything other than the request of an upstanding family for a wise and clever wizard to visit in regards to a child's illness. He knew that Albus would understand it; after all, they had devised the code together.

Lucius attached the letter to his owl's leg and sent him off with an owl treat, "Take this to Albus."

The owl flew from the window. Lucius sat there in silence for a moment, the door to the study opened to reveal Narcissa standing there dressed to go out into the rainy weather. She wore short robes that would not drag in the puddles, water repelling shoes, and there was the all-over shimmery effect from casting the _impervious_ charm on herself.

"I'm going to Diagon Alley now," she said, "Is there anything else that you need?"

"No, I think that ought to do it," Lucius stood and walked over to her, he kissed her cheek and smiled, "Be safe out there!" he chided, "It's a dangerous world."

"I will," she smiled, "I'll be back in an hour or so." She left the room.

He felt, rather than heard, her apparate away from the manor. Lucius stayed in the study, awaiting the arrival of Albus' reply. It wasn't long before an owl swooped into the room. Lucius walked as fast as he was allowed, considering his upbringing, over to the owl. He quickly unfurled the parchment and broke the Howarts' seal.

_Lucius,_

_I regret to hear of this illness, however I find that  
I am unable to visit the child and discern its status. I will  
be sending a proxy to handle the issue. He should be  
arriving shortly. I believe this man should be able to  
handle anything that might come up. In the unfortunate  
event that he is unable to cure the illness, it will be passed on  
to me to look at._

_Good day,  
Albus Dumbledore_

Lucius reread the letter to be sure of what it said. Once he'd reassured himself he threw the letter into the fire angrily. A soft pop behind him caused him to turn about, there stood Severus Snape.

"Headmaster Dumbledore sent me to see about an ill child?" he sneered.

"Yes, right this way," Lucius led Severus to Narcissa's pensieve, "I have to caution you, I haven't seen this memory. I only know what my wife told me."

Severus nodded, "Well, let's get this over with. You first," he gestured to the bowl.

Lucius leaned forward, his nose touching the liquid, he felt himself slide into the bowl. A moment later Severus landed beside him. They both noticed that they were inside the foyer of the Riddle Manor in Little Hangleton. Lucius saw Regulus squatting in a guilty position in the shadows beneath the banister. As they neared him, they heard the voices drifting from up above.

As they listened to the conversation from the room upstairs, both their faces drew long and thin. Lucius was frowning heavily, and Severus' brows were drawn so low that his eyes had almost disappeared behind the hairs. Suddenly, they found themselves thrown out of the memory and back into Lucius' and Narcissa's bedroom. They looked at each other, both were breathing hard.

Lucius chanced to speak, "What just happened?"

"I'm not sure," Severus said. "But whatever it was, it wasn't very good. I have to take this memory to Albus. Tell me if you receive anything else like this from Regulus."

"Perhaps it was a created memory?"

Severus thought for a moment, "No, it was too vivid. If it had been created then the memory would have an ending. I don't like how we were thrown out like that. It suggests a protection charm on whatever Voldemort was going to say next. But I'm not entirely sure about that."

Lucius sighed, "This has just made our lives much more complicated."

"You think so?" Severus said sarcastically, "Whatever gave you that idea?" He marched out of the room and apparated once he reached the foyer, Lucius remained upstairs and looked at his wife's pensieve. He walked over to his bed, sat down on the edge and buried is hands into his hair. He laid back on the covers and was quickly engulfed into nightmares revolving around his son, his wife, and him personally experiencing Azkaban. He saw flashes of Draco and Albus standing on the astronomy tower, Albus held at his son's wand-point. He saw his wife suffering under Voldemort's Cruciatus, he saw Snape killing Albus with the Avada Kedavra. His nightmares seemed endless and he tossed and turned late into the afternoon when he was abruptly woken by a very frightened Dobby.

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The year passed with Voldemort gaining strength and territory. The number of muggle killings was rising; mudbloods tortured now had a permanent column on the front page of the _Daily Prophet_. The Death Eaters were wrecking havoc on the citizens of the muggle and wizard world alike and nothing the Ministry of Magic or the Order of the Phoenix seemed able to curb the killing sprees.

Voldemort was powerful enough to have personally sent articles to the _Daily Prophet_ and ensure that they were published. Pureblood family after pureblood family fell to his wrath. No one was able to escape it. The aurors were working overtime, never resting in fear for their families and personal selves. It was a vicious circle and no one seemed to be winning, but the Death Eaters were certainly slowly gaining the upper hand. People did not know whom to trust, and whom to fear. Death Eaters were garnering a large number of supporters, or rather those who were too afraid to resist his threats. It was a dangerous time, a worrisome time in which there was hardly a speck of hope of ever overcoming this blight to the wizarding world.

The fear was palpable in this world, wizards were afraid to leave their homes. This fear continued to grow until on one fateful night it was all overcome, and hope was restored.

**Please _Read_ and _Review_!**

Come on people! I live on reviews, I thrive on them. Next chapter we will see the destruction of Voldemort. Like I said, I am one chapter behind on my outline, this information really should have been in chapter four, but that chapter grew way out of hand and I couldn't figure out what to cut. I'm hoping that everyone is enjoying this fic. I know that a lot of people are _reading_ but not _reviewing_. We will see the vaporization of Voldemort and the Wizengamot Trials of all the people in the story that you have been meeting. After that chapter it will be to the 'Golden Trio' and their escapades to find the horcruxes. Along with some romance, humor, and the occasional smart alecky remarks that we are all so found of.

I am trying to keep all the characters 'in character' as we know them. That is why we'll see some cruelness on Lucius' part, and snobbery on Narcissa's part, but I'm expanding their personalities. A person can't be a heartless bastard all the time, and Narcissa can't really be a snobbish WASP all the time. So I look at this as branching out. Ok…long Author's Note. Shutting up.

KaytiSarai


	6. Halloween's Surprise

**Title:** The Secrets of Hermione Granger

**Chapter:** (6?)  
**Disclaimer:** I am not J.K. Rowling, nor do I ever intend to be.  
**Author's Note:** Just so you know, something that I did not plan snuck into this chapter. I have no clue how it happened, but mistakes happen. And I think this is a good one. Also…this chapter is ridiculously long. I thought of breaking it into two chapters, but the breaking point would have made them very short, so I left it as is.

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Chapter 6**  
_Halloween's Surprise and Snape's Snarkiness  
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Amelia Hermione Kowal and Draco Lucius Malfoy had been magically betrothed almost a year ago. Rassia and Narcissa were preparing a sort of anniversary party for the two of them, not that either would remember the event. It was almost the end of October and the two were planning the event for the fourteenth of November, after all, that was the day that the two infants had been bound. Lucius and Taliesin were as involved in the planning as Rassia and Narcissa, although they were much less excited about the party. Actually, both men were rather hoping to hide away in the Malfoy's drawing room for the evening and finish off a bottle of brandy.

It was to be quite the event. Not a Ministry member or Death Eater was lacking an invitation. Of all the invitations delivered, all had been responded to in the affirmative. Every invitation had merited a partier, of course who could refuse an invitation from either family? Exactly.

The Dark Lord had even been kind enough to allow the two wives to steal away his most trusted followers to help in the planning of the party. It was amazing that Taliesin had managed to gain Voldemort's trust so quickly, but Lucius chalked it up to their friendship and the fact that Taliesin had an unbelievably adorable little girl. For some reason Voldemort had taken a shine to Airell. At five the child was even more precocious than at four, she was like a dry and thirsty sponge soaking up every bit of information around her. She was such a polite little girl, that adults immediately found her to be charming.

In addition to that, Airell would brag to anyone that would listen, and even a few who wouldn't, that she had the best baby sister ever! Airell liked to stand over Amelia's cot and read to her from story and picture books. Amelia would just gaze, wide-eyed, at the moving pictures of mermaids and unicorns. It seemed that the two learned together, even though Amelia could hardly utter a sound.

The last day of October dawned with crisp air and frost on the ground. It was Halloween at last. The Kowal's had decorated their manor for the occasion, there were lit pumpkins bouncing around on the front lawn, a skeleton was tap dancing in the lounge, and bats were flying around the dinning room ceiling. The house-elves were even in the spirit and had charmed their Kowal-crested togas to pumpkin orange.

That afternoon, Rassia was a whirlwind rushing through the rooms in the manor. She was ordering around the house-elves and servants. She sent Tchotchke to search for her golden harp, Tika to try and find the spell for vampire teeth, and she sent Taliesin up the various chimneys. Apparently, they were sooty. Eventually Rassia stood still long enough that Taliesin managed to cast a leg-locker curse on her. He laughed rather evilly as her legs snapped together and she toppled over. When she started berating him for upsetting her schedule he slapped a silencing charm on her as well.

"_Mobilicorpus!_" muttered Taliesin with a flick of his wand as his now irate, silenced, and leg-locked wife. Her body rose from the floor as though it were attached to invisible puppet strings. Taliesin gently guided her body into his study and shut the door behind him. He set her down on the sofa and then sat down in the chair next to the sofa.

He looked seriously at her and frowned, "What has you worked up in such a knot?" She proceeded to glare at him, rather harshly, too, thought Taliesin. "If I remove the silencing charm will you please not scream and yell?" he asked gently. She turned her head to the ceiling ignoring him. They sat in silence for a few moments before she stiffly nodded her head. Taliesin grinned, "Wonderful!" He flicked his wand at her, removing the charm.

"Thanks," she said dryly, "Now if you would please remove this childish curse, I'll be on my way and leave you in peace."

"I don't think so," said Taliesin. He shifted in his wing-backed chair, "We have to talk. First things first, you cannot tell me to clean my own chimney. We have house-elves for a reason." He looked sternly at her, "Secondly, why in the world are you rushing around like some sort of mad woman? The elves are perfectly capable of seeing the house is clean."

"I'll do whatever I want!" Rassia countered stubbornly, "Besides, that chimney was filthy—"

"—is filthy."

"I told you to clean it!"

"And I told you 'Not on your life.' I can't help it if you took that as a 'yes'."

Rassia glared at him and crossed her arms over her chest. She turned her gaze to the far arm of the sofa and stared mutely down at it, refusing to say anything. Taliesin sighed and brushed is hand through his unruly brown hair.

"Why are you acting like this? The party isn't for another two weeks. That is no reason to drive the house-elves to drink. You've seen them after a few bottles of butterbeer last New Year's, I'd really prefer not to be chasing down twenty-six house-elves."

Rassia continued to stare mutinously down at the other end of the sofa. Finally she sighed and reached inside her robe for her wand. She flicked it angrily at him. He flinched, expecting something awful to happen but was surprised when a hard-backed planner landed in his lap. Rassia flicked her wand again and the planner flew open to October. He saw her appointments, meetings and other such charity-orientated events. After carefully combing the page for that one thing he was obviously supposed to be seeing there, he frowned at his wife.

"Alright," he said carefully, "You've had a very full month?" he asked, hoping that was the correct answer. Apparently it wasn't.

Rassia flicked her wand again, causing the page to flip to September. Again, Taliesin had a hard time understanding what the problem was. Rassia saw his frown, this time she jabbed the wand at the planner, it flew open to August. Still nothing but a frown on Taliesin's face. She jabbed the wand once more, flipping the planner to July. All of a sudden his face flickered into comprehension.

"Are you sure?" Taliesin asked, with a bright smile on his face. Unfortunately that was the wrong question as Rassia caused decided to hit him over the head with the planner now turned to August, then September and finally October.

"Of course, I'm sure, you dolt!" she said fiercely.

"Alright, alright!" he said, his arms over his head trying to ward off Rassia's abusive planner. It fell to the floor, seemingly harmless. "When did you find out for sure?"

"A month and a half ago," Rassia said.

"And you've kept this from me this long!"

"I wasn't sure how to tell you."

"We've had two other children, you managed to tell me then! Why is this any different?"

Rassia muttered something under her breath.

"Sorry," said Taliesin sarcastically, "Didn't quite catch that."

"It's a boy," she said softly.

Taliesin froze. He had a startled expression on his face and his mouth was hanging slightly open. Slowly it closed, and he settled back into the chair. His face softened into a dreamy expression with a half smile on his lips, "A boy," he whispered, "a boy!" he said louder. He leapt out of the chair and pulled Rassia up from the sofa, he began to drag her around the room, leaping and laughing. "We're having a boy!" he shouted. He finally paused enough to notice that Rassia wasn't moving her legs, "What's wrong with you?" he asked with a puzzle expression.

"The stupid leg-locker curse," she answered rather lightly.

Taliesin blushed, a sheepish expression came over his face, "_Oh_, of course." He quickly cast the counter-curse and took off dancing around the room again, still dragging Rassia who couldn't keep up with his energetic leaps and bounds, spins and twirls and dips. He finally had Rassia pinned against the wall; his hands were over her head and flat on the wall. He smiled wolfishly down at her, "A boy!" he whispered excitedly. "We're going to have a son!" He leaned in suddenly and took over her mouth. He kissed her thoroughly; his hands found their way in between their bodies and rested lightly on her stomach. He pulled back and looked down to his hand, "There's a boy in there," he said in wonder. He moved his hand and wrapped it around her waist, pulling her body into his. His mouth met hers and so continued the meeting of the mouths.

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The first day of November was steeped in celebration. Wizards all over Great Britain were carousing in parties, pubs, and were involved in all sorts of merrymaking. Dedalus Diggle had set off a number of Filibuster's fireworks over parts of muggle England; wizards were out in the streets exchanging rumors and names for the first time in almost a decade. A new age had dawned in the wizarding world over night, but the cost had been very great to a small number of people. Their grief was lost in the general tides of happiness. Those who had sacrificed and lost all would live forever as hallowed remembrances of what had been, as those that changed the course of history.

The headline of the _Daily Prophet_ that morning was a full page declaration of the demise of Voldemort. The article that followed told of how Voldemort had gone to the Potter's house in Godric's Hollow and how Harry Potter survived the _Avada Kedevra_ curse. The article crowned the baby Harry Potter, 'the Boy Who Lived.' It was a title that would follow him from that moment in his home, that fateful moment that had cost the young boy everything.

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That morning Rassia and Taliesin awoke to a flurry of activity. The house-elves were celebrating in their own sort of way. They had decided that Kowal Manor needed its spring cleaning now. Right now, in November. The Kowals awoke to hordes and armies of elves cleaning, dusting, vacuuming, and all manner of cleaning. The elves pulled the sheets from the master bed while the master and his mistress were still sleeping. Rassia and Taliesin suddenly found themselves strewn on the floor on their bedroom, which was quite a shock to say the least. All of a sudden, the pillows started flying off the bed. Rassia ducked her head into her arms trying to avoid the soft projectiles. Taliesin rose from the floor into the deluge of pillows, catching one and holding it up to block the rest. When the pillows stopped flying, he looked to the bed and saw Tika jumping up and down on the mattress—singing.

"What are you doing, Tika?" he shouted over her.

She turned to him and beamed, "Master Taliesin!" she said happily, "He is gone!" she bounced on the bed once again and renewed the chorus.

"Who is gone?" he shouted again.

"He-who-must-not-be-named!"

"Voldemort's gone?" said Rassia, standing next to her husband.

"He is gone!" sang Tika happily. She bounced especially high, turned a neat little flip in mid-air, and with a crack disappeared from the room.

Taliesin and Rassia shared a look, as if they had one mind, they turned from the bed, raced out of their bedroom and down to the kitchen where the _Daily Prophet_ was waiting for them on the table. From the looks of it the house-elves had already read through it. The two turned to one another, suddenly Rassia was in Taliesin's arms, she was kissing him all over his face, and then he was kissing her all over her face. It was wild, heady, passionate. There were tears coursing down Rassia's face, there were tears coursing down Taliesin's face. They had to finally break apart for air, gasping for breath, Taliesin held her cheek and smiled at her.

"Our children will be safe," he said in a soft voice, "Airell, Amelia, and our boy."

Rassia stifled a cry, "I know," she managed to get out between tears.

Unfortunately, their happiness was short lived, aurors apparated into their kitchen, forming a circle around the happy couple. The Kowals had never warded against their apparating in. Stunning spells were shot from each auror's wand, hitting and stunning both Rassia and Taliesin. They collapsed to the floor unconscious.

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For the past five years, November first has been a sad day in the Malfoy household. Narcissa and Lucius would wake up, Narcissa in tears, Lucius stony faced. Lucius would turn to Narcissa, gather her in his arms and then they would rock back and forth together in bed, both overcome into tears and sobs. Draco joined in his parents' woe, tearfully shrieking in his cot. No matter how the sun was shining outside the windows, the gloom inside the house could never be conquered. This November first was no different. And yet, it was.

When Narcissa and Lucius finally managed to pull themselves far enough from their grief to get ready for the day, they found that the _Daily Prophet_ was laying on the table in their bedroom. Its front page stated boldly: **VOLDEMORT HAS BEEN DEFEATED IN GODRIC'S HOLLOW (details inside)**. Lucius and Narcissa exchanged a glance, Narcissa reached for the paper and turned to the inside page detailing the headline. She looked at her husband and began to read:

_Hallowe'en is a day that will live in infamy for the wizarding world, writes Chet Ubetcha, special correspondent. Late last night, You-Know-Who entered the home of Lily and James Potter of Godric's Hollow. It was most likely to be a run-of-the-mill killing spree, no Death Eaters were found at the scene though to prove this theory. When Aurors arrived on the scene, the house was in ruins, still smoking from the curse blasts._

_The bodies of Mister and Missus Potter have been recovered and will be buried in the Godric's Hollow Cemetery later in the week. However, the body of their son, Harry Potter was missing from the scene. What is known from analysis of the scene is that three Avada Kedavras were cast. This would be the first time that the blast would cause a building to be decimated._

_Muggles witnesses claim that they heard shouts coming from the house, followed by flashing lights, most likely He-who-must-not-be-named's curses and the curses of the Potters in self defense. Following the final brilliant flash of light, the house erupted into flame and then collapsed. Witnesses also say that a vapor-like substance fled from the ruins in Godric's Hollow. Before the Obliviation Squad wiped the muggles' memory, a few muggles spoke of a giant flying motorbike arriving on the scene and a dark haired man stumbling about in confusion. They claimed that he seemed to be looking for something. A few muggles even claimed to seeing a giant of a man appearing out of thin air, words were exchanged between the two men, and then the larger man took off on the motorbike with a small colored bundle._

_Albus Dumbledore was at the Ministry of Magic all night straightening out the details. It seems that Harry Potter survived a direct attempt of the killing curse. He is the only known survivor of the curse to date; he is the boy who lived! How this managed to happen remains a mystery to Ministry officials._

_As I write this article, Aurors are traveling the countryside, rounding up that last Death Eaters. All will be tried, persecuted, and sentenced to Azkaban. The Ministry is asking for the patience of the wizarding world as it conducts these raids, officials suspect that business will resume to a somewhat normal status in a week's time. _

_All this reporter can say is, Thank Merlin for Harry Potter!_

Narissa finished the article. She looked at her husband who had paled considerably. She grasped his hand and smiled half-heartedly.

"They'll come for me," he rasped.

"Lucius," she put her arms around him and rested her head against his chest, "Albus knows that you have been a loyal member of the Order of the Phoenix ever since…well, ever since Violet's death."

"Violet was murdered," said Lucius in a hard tone.

"Yes, dear, I know. But You-Know-Who can't murder anyone else ever again."

"Do you remember Regulus' memory?" Lucius said quietly.

"_Oh_ no!" Narcissa gasped, "Bellatrix must be stopped! We can't let that happen!" Narcissa moved out of Lucius' arms and threw on a dressing gown, just as she was about to exit the room the aurors apparated in, forming a circle around the pair.

Narcissa cried out in surprise and started pleading with the hard-faced man in front of her. He looked at her dispassionately and said, "All of my children are dead because of horrible people like you. _Stupefy!_" Narcissa collapsed onto the carpeting, soon followed by Lucius.

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Severus stood in the window, gazing out as the sun breached the trees in the distance. He watched as an owl swooped over the tree tops and frowned. There were an inordinate amount of owls flying around, he had seen them flying all over since midnight, and he ought to know, he hadn't gone to sleep. The _Daily Prophet_ was brought to him by a barn owl that morning, after being nipped until he bled, Severus gave the owl a treat and five knuts. The damned bird finally flew out the window and left him to watch the sun rise.

He unfurled the _Prophet_ and was surprised at the shouting headline on the front page. He flipped to the article and read, his mouth curling into a sneer of displeasure. He had no honest idea why he still bought this rotten rag.

He set the paper calmly on the table, poured himself a cup of tea and sat down—waiting. It would only be a matter of time before the aurors were pounding down his front walk, might as well be ready for them. He took a sip of his tea, and sure enough the aurors popped into his kitchen.

His eyes widened slightly as he heard the series of pops, "Well, now! That's just rude!" he said sarcastically. "You could've at least had the courtesy to ring the bell!"

An auror to his right sneered and said, "You've never given the muggles that courtesy. Why do you deserve it?" she said. "_Stupefy!_" Snape stiffened in his chair and toppled over onto the floor, his tea spilling out onto the kitchen floor.

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Severus, Lucius, and Taliesin found themselves locked into a cell in Azkaban. It was a large, dark cell and seemed to hold about fifty or so men. All appeared to be Death Eaters. They eventually found one another in the gloom and huddled off in a corner by themselves. Severus cast the _Muffliato_ curse on the nearest Death Eaters and they began to speak in hushed voices.

"Do you think Rassia is alright?" worried Taliesin.

"I hope that Narcissa is fine," said Lucius, he looked at his friend, "I can't believe they took our wives. Voldemort would have never allowed them to join."

"I'm not just worried about that," said Taliesin, "Rassia's pregnant again!" he said quietly.

"Again?" seered Severus, "Can't you two keep your body parts to yourselves?"

"_Ah_, Severus," said Taliesin congenially, "If you ever find a woman you love, you'll understand."

"What do you think we're going to do?" asked Lucius in a hushed tone, looking around carefully, "We have to be careful in here, but once we get out there do you think Albus will help clear our names?"

"He'd better," said Severus darkly, "I have wanted Voldemort dead for a long time, ever since he saw fit to murder my mother. I don't know who he thinks he is, dying like that! I wanted to kill him!"

Taliesin shushed Severus and said, "Yes, that is understandable."

"I've wanted to kill him ever since he killed my daughter," said Lucius in a flat voice, "The Potter brat stole that from us."

"Please, be quiet!" said Taliesin in a slightly panicked tone. They were beginning to attract the attention of the other Death Eaters, "They're all looking at us!"

"Bugger off!" said Snape in a loud tone. All the Death Eaters suddenly found something to do in that long, dank chamber.

"MALFOY!" called a voice at the end of the chamber where a sliver of light had come in.

Lucius grimaced and stood up, "Tell Narcissa I love her, if you ever see her."

"Sure, and if you see Rassia, can you tell her that I love her."

"Yes," Lucius stalked off through the clusters of people and exited through the door that had appeared in the stone wall.

"KOWAL!" called the voice again.

Taliesin stood and gave Severus a grim smile, "Can you—"

"—Yes!" Snape interrupted, "Go before they thrash you or something terrible."

Taliesin walked silently to the other end of the room and through the doorway.

Once again the voice called out, "SNAPE!"

Severus blinked and stood up. _Well, this is it, I suppose_. He thought to himself, _No one to tell 'I love you!' or to tell me to get going_. He walked through the doorway into the lighted hallway and blinked until he became accustomed to the light. The stone door slammed shut behind him and he jumped.

Before him stood Albus Dumbledore, the Minister, Lucius, Taliesin and their wives. Albus wore a weary expression and just waved a hand for them to follow him. They walked down the corridor and entered a well-lit chamber with comfortable chairs all placed around a decently sized conference table. Albus sat at the head and left the others to fill in the spaces around him.

Once they were all seated, Albus smiled his time-worn smile and said, "Congratulations on being alive."

Severus snorted, "If that's all you've brought us here to say, I think I'd rather go and spend time with those Death Eaters thanks. They're really rather nice once you get past their personalities."

Albus smiled at Severus, "You always were willing to work overtime." He lost his smile and turned to the rest of the group, "We still have a problem. We can't come out and claim that you were spying on Voldemort, the Lestranges are still at large, all three of them. We also can't do that because of the horcruxes."

Lucius' eyes gleamed, "I can still kill him then!"

Albus snapped his eyes to look at Lucius, "Yes, but the unfortunate thing about killing him is that he has to come back. For both you and Severus to get revenge he'll have to return twice. I'm also sure that when Harry Potter is old enough that he'll want to kill Voldemort for murdering his parents. That is three times he has to return, and I think that is three times too many."

Lucius sat back in his chair and crossed his arms, "Well, what do you suggest then, old man?"

Taliesin and Rassia were watching the conversation like it was a tennis match. Finally, Taliesin finally cleared his throat, "Did you say that Voldemort has horcruxes? As in the plural?"

"Yes," said Dumbledore simply.

"I've never heard of such a thing before," he said stunned.

"Neither have I," said Rassia. "Albus?" she said, "May I ask who is watching Airell and Amelia?"

"I believe I left Tika and Tchotchke to watch the two of them." Albus noticed that Narcissa had opened her mouth to voice the same question, "And I believe that a rather fine elf by the name of Dobby is taking care of young Draco, Narcissa."

A look of relief passed over both mothers' faces, "Thank you," they whispered in unison.

"Now," said Albus, "Because of the horcruxes, I'm going to suggest following through with the original plan. Amelia and Draco are bound by magic already. I also hope that you have been calling her Hermione; it would take time for her to get accustomed to a new name. I suggest that you stage her death after the third anniversary of the betrothal. I can take care of the legality of the issue."

Lucius' head was spinning, "A moment. If I am to understand this correctly, we have to continue pretending that we are Death Eaters?" When Albus nodded in affirmation, Lucius almost exploded, "I cannot continue to consort with those people! They are the very scum of the earth! I am not going to Azkaban for this! You doddering old fool! This was your plan, I spy on him, you keep me out of Azkaban! I've already lost one child to that murdering bastard, I don't intend to lose another because of you!" Lucius slammed his fist on the table and hissed, "You had better keep your promise, old man! You do not want Lucius Malfoy as an enemy."

Albus held up a hand patiently, "Indeed, Lucius, I do not want you as an enemy. I would like you to continue spying for me. I need to know if any word of him returning crops up. I want to be prepared unlike this time. Perhaps if we know in advance then we can keep it from escalating this far."

"You had better keep me from Azkaban!"

"You will not be going to Azkaban," said the minister calmly. "I'll see to it that the Wizengamot does not send you there."

Lucius crossed his arms, and spat out, "How will you managed that?"

"I believe that both of you were under the Imperious. Wasn't that is Albus?"

"_Oh_, yes, indeed," Albus agreed, he nodded, "The Imperious Curse can make a wizard do a number of things that he would not ordinarily do. Isn't that right, Lucius? Taliesin?"

The pair smirked, "Now that you mention it," said Taliesin, "I am thinking clearly for the first time in over a year."

"I was just thinking that very same thought!" said Lucius with a smirk, "My, how wonderful it is to use my thought processes again."

"Don't overdo it," cautioned Albus, "There is a fine like between truth and fiction. Right now you are somewhere in the realm of completely unbelievable."

"I'll be much more convincing once I'm strapped to that chair. I can assure you of that, Albus," said Lucius.

"You won't be strapped to the chair, Lucius," said the Minister in a small voice, "Someone of your standing, we wouldn't dream of it."

Lucius smirked, "Excellent."

"Neither will Taliesin," said the Minister, "Most of the Death Eaters won't be. Most have donated large sums to the Ministry; we would never even entertain the thought."

Taliesin frowned at him, "That is dangerous, Minister."

"Extremely," agreed Lucius.

"I believe that I'll claim remembering nothing of this previous year besides what I have been known to do," Taliesin said to Lucius, turning back to the real matter at hand, "You'd best claim something similar. That way it'll sound like we both experienced it."

"When will their trials be?" asked Narcissa.

Albus pulled out his watch, "In five minutes." They gaped at him, and he smiled in return, "I can't allow you to think too much on concocting this feeling. If it's too thought out, then it won't sound believable either." He stood from the table, "Rassia and Narcissa, would you like to come with me? The Minister has to talk with the pair of them, go over the side-effects of Imperious. I believe that there will be room next to me in the courtroom."

"Certainly," said Rassia, she stood from her chair and smiled. She looked down at her husband and said, "I'll see you in five minutes," then she bent down and kissed his cheek, "Good luck," she whispered in his ear.

Narcissa had stood up as well, the three of them walked from the conference room, shutting the door behind them. The Minister looked at the three left in the room and smiled weakly.

Severus cleared his throat, "Well, Minister. What's my excuse to be?"

The Minister looked nervous for a moment, "I believe that Albus was going to speak for you as a Professor at Hogwarts who had led a misguided youth, but had managed to escape the Death Eaters long ago."

"_Hmm_," said Severus, "Now, how about we clarify these after-effects of Imperious. I'm sure the two there would really appreciate knowing them. Even if they are being absolved, it would be nice to make this believable."

The Minister nodded, "Well, the Imperious Curse, as you know, controls the mind of a wizard. It is cast using the—"

"—We know what the curse is, Minister," interrupted Taliesin softly, "Tell us what you need us to say so that we are free to leave with no charges."

"And make it quick. We don't have much time left," said Lucius.

"Just tell them that you don't really remember the last few months. That time has been a blur for you. Mention that you don't really remember the first year of your children's lives," the Minister was speaking very quickly. "Try to add some heartfelt emotions into your speech. Something about how much you love your wives and how much you've missed them this year."

Lucius looked at his pocket-watch, "Well, it's time, Minister. Will they be coming to get us?"

"_Oh_, no! I'll be walking you down to the courtroom."

The four of them pushed back their chairs and stood up. The Minister walked over to the doorway and into the hall, he looked up and down it and frowned.

"Something wrong?" asked Snape, almost innocently.

"No, no. I was looking for guards. We have to make this believable. As though I would walk through the Ministry unprotected with three Death Eaters," he scoffed. Three guards walked around the corner at that moment, "Excellent," he said, "Guards!" he called, "I need to take these three men down to Courtroom Eleven. If you would be so kind to aid me."

The guards exchanged looks, "Minister, have you been unprotected around these men?"

"No, no! Albus was with me moments ago. These Death Eaters were just pulled from beyond the wall."

The guard looked at him skeptically and sighed, "Alright, boys. Let's go." The three guards trained their wands on the three spies.

The group walked down the corridor that headed toward the courtroom. It was silent in the group, both Lucius and Taliesin were developing lies, stories, and missing memories. Severus was walking with a sour expression, but that was far from unusual. When they reached the room, the Minister opened the door and the guard threw Severus in through the opening. It closed behind him and they were left in the corridor to await the outcome.

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The guards threw Severus through the door and into the darkened chamber. Two sets of rough hands grabbed him and roughly stuffed him down into a chair; chains threaded themselves over his wrists, around his ankles and across his chest. The chair had bound Severus Snape to it in a not very welcoming hug.

Lights flooded the room, there was tiered seating surrounding the circular floor in the center. Witches and wizards occupied each and every seat; most were sitting there quietly, with sneers on their faces. A few jeered down at him, but most were too polite for such blatant displays of dislike. On the topmost tier stood Mister Bartemius Crouch; he was accompanied by the entirety of the Wizangamot; Amelia Bones, the Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement; and a fair number of others that one would be hard-pressed to name.

Crouch looked dispassionately down on Severus, "You are here on charges of being a Death Eater. If you are then you have a lifetime sentence in Azkaban, if you can prove that you are not you are free to leave this room after the hearing."

Albus stood from his seat, "The matter of Severus Snape has been cleared with the Wizengamot. All members have voted _inculpatus_. This clears Severus Snape of all charges and convictions."

Crouch looked at Dumbledore, "Nonetheless, there must be a hearing. A trial without a hearing is rather nonsensical and only theater."

"The Wizengamot has vouched for Snape's innocence. I have vouched for Snape's innocence. Are you claiming that the Wizengamot and I are not wise enough when it comes to determining the status of _inculpatus_?"

"Of course not," said Bartemius Crouch, "Severus Snape is hereby cleared of all charges, past and present, in regards to his activities as a Death Eater," Crouch banged a wooden gavel, "Case dismissed. NEXT!" he called to the guards at the door.

Severus Snape was released from the chair and allowed to walk out of the courtroom of his own accord. When he was in the hallway again he saw that the Minister was standing there with Taliesin. Apparently, Lucius was next.

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When Lucius entered the courtroom, it was rather much different from when Severus entered. First of all, all the lights in the room were lit; there was none of the darkness and sudden blinding light that had afflicted Severus. Secondly, no one pulled him unsuspectingly into the room and shoved him into a hard, wooden chair. Rather, the chair that was in the middle of the chamber was a nice, dark-green velvet. It was high-backed with wings, and actually looked rather comfortable.

Lucius sat down into the chair, his hand resting over the side and dangling elegantly. He crossed his legs, one over the other, and waited patiently for Bartemius Crouch to address him.

"Master Malfoy," Crouch began, "You are here on charges that you participated in Death Eater activities. In addition to that, you are charged with being a Death Eater and a member of You-Know-Who's Inner circle." Crouch leaned over the edge of the tier and stared down at him, "What do you have to say to that."

"I have no idea what you are talking about. The last year or so is a total blank in my mind." Lucius said calmly.

A murmur swept over the crowd, "What do you mean a total blank," was shouted from various sides of the room. Shouts of "Liar!" were also heard over the buzzing of the crowd.

Crouch banged his gavel, calling for silence and order, "Master Malfoy," he said, "What do you recall of the past year?"

Lucius paused, "There isn't much that I remember. There are small flashes of memory that I can't rightly place in time, but other than that there is nothing there."

The courtroom erupted again, and once again the loud banging of the gavel was heard, "Master Malfoy," shouted Crouch above the mayhem, "What feelings to you recall from this morning or the previous evening?"

There was silence, everyone was waiting to here was the great Master Malfoy was going to say. Lucius waited, enjoying having the attention of so many. He smiled, "I remember waking up to my wife this morning. I remember feeling quite sad, and my wife was crying. This is after all, the fifth anniversary of the death of our daughter, Violet. November first has always been a sad day at Malfoy Manor."

Crouch banged his gavel for order once again, "When did your daughter die?"

"Five years ago today," said Lucius. He frowned, "And she didn't die. She was murdered."

Albus Dumbledore stood up from his place beside Crouch, he cast a silencing charm over the whole courtroom and spoke in the quiet, "From what I have heard from Lucius Malfoy's testimony, it sounds as though he is as much a victim of Lord Voldemort as we are. I have also reached the conclusion that he was placed under the Imperious Curse, perhaps for a length of time greater than one year."

The silence carried on, and so did Dumbledore, "This decision rests with the Wizengamot, Lucius Malfoy has been under the Imperious Curse, and he is at no fault for his actions." Dumbledore removed the silencing charm and the occupants practically exploded into a fury of exclamation, accusations, and demand for retribution.

Crouch banged the gavel, calling for order, he shouted over the crowd, "Lucius Malfoy is hereby cleared of all charges, past and present, in regards to him having participated in any Death Eater activities by freedom of choice. Since he was not doing so freely, he is not guilty of his actions." Crouch banged the gavel, "Case dismissed. NEXT!"

Lucius stood gracefully from the chair, nodded at Dumbledore and Crouch, and left the room. He exited through the doorway and saw Snape and the Minister standing fretfully outside. Actually, Snape was leaning coolly against the stone wall; the Minister was standing there fretfully.

"Did it work? Were you let off?" he asked quickly.

Lucius nodded, "The Wizengamot decided that since it was not of my free will I could not be guilty for my actions."

"Excellent," breathed the Minister. He licked his lips, "I hope it goes so pleasantly for Master Kowal."

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Taliesin entered the courtroom, noting that it was well-lit and actually rather lovely. The stonework that made up the interior was rather old and quite nice in his opinion. He walked calmly over to the dark green wing-backed chair and sat down, sinking into the comfortable seat. He sat there just as elegantly as Lucius had, making the chair almost into a throne. He also waited patiently to be addressed, sitting there quietly, judging the buzzing crowd. Apparently, Lucius had managed to set them all afire with his claims, hopefully that wouldn't impede his chances.

"Master Kowal," said a voice from above, it was slightly too dark to see the face, but by the nasally quality Taliesin assumed it was Bartemius Crouch, "You have been brought before the Wizengamot and your peers because accusations have been levelled against you claiming that you have been a Death Eater for at least one year. You are charged with taking part in Death Eater activities and if these charges are true you face a life sentence in Azkaban." Crouch leaned forward into the light, Taliesin smirked, _What an actor! He certainly goes for the theater,_ he mused. Crouch continued speaking, "What do you say to these charges?"

Taliesin smiled at Crouch, "I would like to say that these charges are ridiculous. I can't remember a single instance in which I have participated in any sort of Death Eater activity. If I were to do that what would become of my Muggle-Born Acclimation Society? I don't appreciate being stunned in my own kitchen. I really don't appreciate having aurors stun my pregnant wife."

A gasp was heard from the crowd. Crouch frowned down to him, "You have been seen carousing with Death Eaters at a variety of locations where the Dark Mark later appeared. How is it that you do not recall these incidences, but you were seen by a number of witnesses?"

Taliesin paused, gathering his thoughts, "I can't remember any circumstance in which I may have done something like that."

Dumbledore stood once again, as he had for Lucius and Severus. This time he said, "I don't imagine that Master Kowal could have anything to do with these charges. He has two very young children and another on the way. He has been running the Muggle-Born Acclimation program this year and if he was seen in any of these places, perhaps he had the Imperious cast upon him as well. If Master Malfoy was under its influence, why would Voldemort not stoop to placing it on Malfoy's best friend since Hogwarts?"

A cry of outrage rose from the tiers, causing Crouch to bang his gavel once again, "These are most serious charges, Albus," said Crouch, "If Voldemort placed a large number of his supporters under the Imperious, perhaps we don't have such a wide-spread muggle hatred as we thought."

"Bartemius, there certainly are muggle haters out there," said Taliesin from the chair, "For example, Bellatrix Lestrange, her husband Rodulphus, and his brother Rabastan. I have encountered them a number of times trying to kill muggle-borns at the Society."

A loud outcry was heard from the tiers, Crouch shouted over it, "The Lestranges have yet to be apprehended. You are hereby cleared of all charges, past and present, of voluntary Death Eater activity. Case dismissed."

"Thank you," said Taliesin rising from the chair. He dipped his head to Bartemius Crouch and the rest of the Wizengamot. Then he turned and left the room for the hallway outside. There Lucius and Severus were standing calmly, waiting for the outcome of Taliesin's hearing. The Minister was pacing up and down, worry etched into every line on his face.

"How did your hearing go?" asked Lucius calmly, examining his thumb nail.

"Great, I was cleared of all accusations."

The Minister let out a cry of relief, "Thank Merlin!" he exclaimed, "It's always messy involving politics and law. Well, I suppose I will see you off then." The Minister led them down the gently upward sloping passageway, and into a brightly lit hallway that ended with the doors to the lift. "Well, I'll leave you gentlemen here. There is much that I have to see to, and not enough time. I hope to see you again sometime." He waved his hand and then sped off down the hallway, back toward the courtrooms.

"Silly sort of fellow isn't he?" said Taliesin.

"_Hmm_," agreed Lucius, "I never much cared for him." He turned back to Severus and Taliesin, "Both Severus and I were cleared of all charges," he sighed, "The _Prophet's_ going to have a field day, they'll assume that we paid someone off and that's how we're set free."

"Agreed," said Taliesin, "But at least now I can go home to my family."

"What a lovely idea that must be," said Severus sourly, "It must be nice to have a family to go home to."

"I think you should both come to the manor tonight," said Lucius, "I believe some celebration is in order. We have cleared our names, are free for sometime of that evil man, and we can live peacefully with our families. Except for Severus, who has no family."

"Exactly," said Severus, "Nor does he want one."

The lift arrived with a loud clang, the three of the stepped into it, and the lift doors closed behind them. Closing that chapter of their lives, they were literally and figuratively rising to the next level of their lives. It was only a matter of time before Amelia and Draco were old enough to talk, it would be soon that Rassia would give birth once again. And eventually all children would end up at Hogwarts with "Uncle Severus," giving him the family that he never wanted. Life is only a matter of time, and it can't wait to be lived.

**Please _Read_ and _Review_!**

I can't tell you how long I've worked on this chapter, I think it's almost to eight hours, without proofreading. I hope you liked it, this one is a little more than fifteen pages in Microsoft word. It's just over 7,000 words long. That is quite a long chapter. I hope you enjoyed this, please leave a review, I'm working hard on this fic and I like where it's going. Well, I have things to do and people to see, and miles to go before I sleep. (Totally doesn't rhyme, but it's late, you'll have to cut me a break).

I have no idea why I title the chapter that, Snape is always more than a little bit snarky, but I thought it was especially visible in this fic.

The Trio will show up in the next chapter! I promise! It will be present day in Harry's world. This here all took place when Harry was a baby, the rest of the fic will concern itself with the present. There will also be interaction between the characters that don't like each other…ooo, tension:D

KaytiSarai


	7. Not Wrong, Just Not Right

**Title:** The Secrets of Hermione Granger

**Chapter:** (7?)  
**Disclaimer:** I am not J.K. Rowling, nor do I ever intend to be.  
**Author's Note:** New chapter! Very exciting. Enjoy

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Chapter 7**  
_Not wrong, Just Not Right  
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After Dumbledore's funeral, the students had found themselves racing towards King's Cross, London. It had been a sober trip, faster than any before, and yet slower at than ever. Harry hardly remembered the trip, he was brooding over the horcruxes, over how to recover them, how to destroy them. He remembered Dumbledore's dead-looking hand and wondered how to avoid the same fate. When the Hogwart's Express pulled into King's Cross, Harry only came to when Hermione pulled on his arm. He looked up at her blankly and slowly rose from his seat. The three left the cabin, walked down the train hallway, and right off the train.

They were greeted by Molly Weasley and she enveloped the three into a large hug. Tears were streaming down her face, "You three!" she said, brushing back a tear, "You're welcome to stay at the Burrow until school picks up again."

"Will the school remain open?" asked Hermione quietly.

Mrs. Weasley nodded, "It was announced in today's _Prophet_. The Governors decided that it was the school's task to educate the students and that if even just one wanted to return, the school would be open."

Harry nodded and pulled back from Mrs. Weasley's embrace, "I appreciate the offer, Mrs. Weasley, but I have to return to the Dursley's. I promised Dumbledore that I would before my seventeenth birthday and I intend to keep my promise."

Mrs. Weasley nodded, "Of course you do," she hugged him again, "You are a man of your word." She kissed his cheek and looked at him through teary eyes, "Just remember that you always have a home with us."

Harry smiled, "Thank you, Mrs. Weasley. I have never felt more at home anywhere else."

She smiled to him and then turned to Ron, "Your father is out front with the car, let's go." She began to walk towards the barrier that led off the platform.

"No, mum," said Ron.

Mrs. Weasley stopped in her tracks and turned to look at her youngest son, "What do you mean, no?"

"I'm going with Harry," he said, "He needs my help."

Hermione stepped forward, "I'm going with him, too. He needs both of our help."

Mrs. Weasley looked back and forth between the two of them, "You are all too young for this!" she suddenly exclaimed, "All three of you! This should not be your job, whatever it is your doing. Let the Order handle the matter."

"Mrs. Weasley," said Hermione softly, "The Order can't do what Harry has to do. No matter how hard they try. This is Harry's task, and his alone."

"I thought you didn't believe in divination and prophecies and all that rubbish," said Ron from behind her.

"I don't, but it's too late for him to avoid it."

Harry stood quietly off to the side, his hands in his pockets. He looked at the ground and scuffed the toe of his trainers against the ground. He sighed to himself and then sat down on his trunk lid, waiting for the fireworks.

"Ron, you are coming home! That's the end of this discussion. Hermione, you are welcome to the Burrow, but I expect that your parents are waiting on the other side of the barrier, ready to bring you home as well."

Hermione shook her head, "They already know that I'm going with Harry."

"But, dear, surely they want you home for the summer?"

"Of course they do. But they've honored my decision."

Mrs. Weasley sighed, "I'm sorry, Ron. But you have to come home. We need you to help set up for the wedding, we need you to help care for Bill. I don't want anymore of my sons injured in this, I don't want anymore of my sons involved in this."

"It's too late, mum," said Ron, "I became involved when I sat with Harry that first day on the train. I became involved when we became best mates."

"Ron, I want you to come home this summer."

"I can't," he said sadly, "This is more important. I'll be there for Bill and Fleur's wedding, we all will. Mum, I'm of age, I can make my own decisions, and this is my decision. I'm going with Harry."

"But you're only a child!" Mrs. Weasley cried, "You're my son! My youngest son, my baby boy!" she said tearfully, "I can't let you go off like this. It's not right!"

"I have to, and I will," said Ron, more firmly, "I'm sticking by Harry's side. I am going with him to the Dursley's."

"And do the Dursleys know that they'll be housing you?" she asked, "What do they think of this silliness?"

Harry finally stood up from his trunk, "They don't know that Ron and Hermione are coming."

"They don't!" she said incredulously, "Harry, that's a bit inconsiderate."

Harry's face hardened, "It'll only be for a night. They can suffer. If this is inconsiderate I can't imagine there's a word for all they've done to me."

Mrs. Weasley's face softened, "Please, come to the Burrow for the summer. When the summer's over you can return to Hogwarts."

"I'm not going back to Hogwarts next year," said Harry.

"But—but—" stuttered Ron's mum, "You have to go back! It's your final year! You'll be a full wizard in the Wizarding world. You'll need your certificates if you'll want to find work."

"I can't go back. It won't be the same without Dumbledore. And Dumbledore's left me a task, he's given me orders. He never told me to stop following his orders if he died, and I don't intend to."

"_Oh_, Harry," she sighed, "You have grown up so much since you first asked how to get on the Platform."

"Mrs. Weasley," said Hermione, "We really ought to be going. The Dursleys won't be happy about me and Ron as it is. I don't think it'd be wise to keep them waiting."

Ron leaned over and began to roll his trolley to the barrier, but was stopped by his mother, "Ronald Weasley!" she said, "You had better owl me when you get there, and once a day!"

"But, mum!"

"No, 'But, mums'," she said sternly, "Understand? If I don't receive an owl once a day, I'll apparate over there and bring you back home at once. Is that understood?"

Ron drooped a little, "Yes, mum," he said softly, "Once a day, every day."

"Yes," she reached up and kissed him lightly on the cheek, "Now, be a good boy for the Dursleys. Don't give them anymore trouble than they deserve."

Ron sighed and gave her a roguish smile, "Yes, mum," he bent down and kissed her cheek, "I love you." He walked off through the barrier and disappeared from the platform.

Mrs. Weasley turned to Harry, "I'm trusting you to bring my son home to me safely."

"I want that more than anything, Mrs. Weasley. I want us all to come home safely." Harry said sadly.

"I'm sorry, dear. I forget how hard this all is on you." She pulled him to her and kissed his cheek too, "You've always been like a son to me. Be safe," she whispered in his ear.

Harry smiled to her, "Thanks, Mrs. Weasley." Harry turned to Hermione, "Ready?"

She nodded to him with a smile, "Thank you, Mrs. Weasley. You've been so nice to both of us."

There were more tears in Mrs. Weasley's eyes, "You two have grown into wonderful adults," she gave them one final hug, "Off with you now. Don't keep the Dursleys waiting."

Hermione and Harry nodded and they disappeared through the barrier and into King's Cross Station. There the Dursleys were standing, all three of them. Aunt Petunia was as horse-faced as ever, Uncle Vernon seemed to have grown out his walrus styled mustache, and Dudley seemed to be even more diminished than the last that Harry saw him, but still roughly as large as a baby whale. Harry strode over to them, Hermione and Ron followed. The Dursleys looked slightly apprehensive as the three walked over across the station floor. Harry stopped abruptly in front of them, dropping his trunk to the station floor. Ron and Hermione did the same, waiting for Harry to do something.

"This is Ron," said Harry pointing to him, "and this is Hermione," he said jabbing his finger in her direction. "They'll be staying with us for the night."

Uncle Vernon's great face purpled and he began to splutter, "We are not in the business of taking in strays, boy!" he said in a strangled tone, trying to keep from bellowing.

"They are not strays," said Harry, "They are my best mates, and they'll be staying with us for the night. After that you'll never have to see any of us ever again."

"Ever again?" said Vernon in what could've been a hopeful tone.

"Ever again," confirmed Harry. "I'm spending one night at your place and then I'm leaving."

"Why spend the night at all?" he sneered.

"Because you have something that I need."

"You won't be stealing from us, you hooligans! I knew there was something fishy about these two! No! I won't permit it!" Vernon said louder.

Hermione stepped forward, "Please, Mr. Dursley. I can promise you that neither of them will steal anything that belongs to you."

"Why should I trust a bushy-haired girl like you?"

"Oi!" said Ron, "That is no way to talk to anyone! Hermione is not bushy-haired! She is just big-haired!"

"Thanks, Ron," said Hermione dryly, "There is such a difference."

"Sorry," he said sheepishly.

"What do you own that I could want anyway?" said Harry, "Dudley's broken toys? His never opened books? There is nothing in the house that I want. There is only something that I need and a promise that I must keep."

"Vernon," said Petunia finally, "The boy will stay at our house for the night with his friends. They'll be gone in the morning and out of our lives forever." She turned to leave, obviously having decided the matter. Dudley trailed his great pork of a body after her, leaving Vernon staring agape after her.

Harry, Ron, and Hermione pushed their trolleys after Mrs. Dursley, leaving King's Cross Station behind them. They poured out onto the street and followed her to a parked car. Vernon stalked out after them and popped the boot. Harry stuffed his trunk inside, then pushed in Ron's. The two boys hoisted Hermione's trunk inside and then struggled to shut the boot. Once it was closed, the three climbed into the back seat and squished together, Hermione being in the middle.

Mr. Dursley sat in the front seat with his wife and son. Mrs. Dursley was squished between the two men; none of them looked back to the two wizards and one witch. Mr. Dursley did not ask if they had buckled the seat belts, he simply put the car in drive and then pulled out of the parking space and off to Little Winging.

The car was silent the entire way to number 4 Privat Drive. Not a single one of the car's occupants had spoken up. Ron was gazing out the window with his mouth hanging open, Harry was staring out the window with a bored expression on his face, and Hermione was studying the small family in front that struggled so hard to ignore what was in front of their faces.

Mr. Dursley finally pulled into the drive, shut off the car and got out. He slammed the door shut and stalked to the front entryway. He shoved the key in the lock, opened the door, walked inside, and then slammed that door shut. Dudley and Mrs. Dursley watched him do this and then they too finally got out of the car.

Harry sighed and turned to Hermione and Ron, "Welcome to my home," he said sarcastically, "Tele's off limits, dinner is served promptly at 6:30, and there is no watching the news station, ever."

"Sounds great," said Ron, "What'll we have for dinner?"

"Whatever Aunt Petunia makes, and it'll probably be disgusting and from Dudley's diet. We might want to eat out."

"Harry," said Hermione, "How long do you have to stay at the Dursley's for the charm to keep working?"

"I don't know," he admitted, "I hope that one day is long enough."

"I don't think we should eat out then," she said, "We had better stay here and let you have as many hours of renewal as you can get."

"That sounds like a good plan," said Ron. He turned to the door, "Now, how do you open this thing?"

"Turn the handle, Ron," said Hermione annoyed.

"What one?"

"That one there," she said, pointing to the one near the edge.

Ron struggled with it for a few moments, "It's not working."

"Here," Hermione leaned over him, pulled the handle, opening the door. Ron tumbled out, pulling Hermione with him. They sprawled out onto the pavement, both shrieking and shouting in surprise. Harry sat in the car still, laughing out loud and clutching his stomach.

"Shut it, Harry!" said Ron, a bright red color.

"Get off of me!" shrieked Hermione. She tried to push him off, and he rolled over to the side, "Ugh, Ron!" she stood up and began dusting off her skirt and shirt. She walked around to the boot of the car and opened it. "Get your trunks!" she commanded.

Harry got out of the car, lifted her trunk from the boot, and placed it down on the pavement. Next he pulled out Ron's trunk, followed by his own.

"Ron, get over here," said Hermione irritably.

"But," said Ron from the front garden, "Look at this silly little creature," he plucked up the ceramic garden gnome and brought it to Hermione and Harry for examination, "A garden gnome looks nothing like this. This one's got a beard, and a pointy hat. And look at his clothes!" Ron turned the thing over and over, "And he's got shoes! If a gnome wore shoes how would we throw them?"

The Dursley's neighbor stood up from where she had been weeding behind the garden wall and gave the three of them a strange look. Hermione smiled nervously at her and turned to Ron, "Put the gnome back where you found it."

"Yes, mother," he sneered and stalked back to the garden and placed the gnome beneath the hydrangeas.

Hermione turned to the neighbor, "He has a large imagination," she explained with hand gestures to emphasize.

The neighbor continued to give her a strange look, and then passed it on to Harry.

Harry just sighed and pulled Hermione away by the elbow. "Don't talk about anything strange to any of the neighbors. Around here imagination is frowned upon." Harry dragged his trunk up the front walk and opened the door into the house.

Hermione sighed, shot a disgusted look to the neighbor, and followed him up the steps, but a voice called her back, "I'd stay away from that family, girlie," said the neighbor.

"What do you mean?" asked Hermione, dropping her trunk and walking back to the garden wall.

"They're strange folk," said the neighbor conspiratorially, "Strange things happen around here. Things that can't be explained." The neighbor looked at her critically, "You seem like a normal enough girl, how did you get involved with that Potter boy? He's the worst of the lot."

"We're housemates at school."

"You go to St. Brutus'?" said the neighbor, raising her eyebrows to impossible heights.

"No," said Hermione, now very puzzled, "I go to Caistor Grammar School."

"Caistor?" the neighbor said curiously, "That Potter boy goes to St. Brutus's, how did you two manage to meet if you go to Caistor?"

Hermione squinted slightly at the woman, "What do you mean Harry goes to St. Brutus's?"

"St. Brutus's Secure Center for Incurably Criminal Boys. That's what Mr. and Mrs. Dursley have told the whole neighborhood."

Hermione laughed out loud, "Harry goes to Caistor Grammar School with me and the other boy you saw," she settled down, "I can't imagine why they would tell such a lie."

The neighbor looked carefully at the girl, "You aren't pulling one over on me? You aren't a cross-dresser of some sort trying to blend in as a girl?"

Hermione crossed her arms over her chest, "I am not a boy, if that's what you asking me."

The neighbor glanced at the Dursley's house, "I'll bet Mrs. Dursley was angry that Potter was accepted to Caistor when Dudley only went on to Smeltings for secondary school. I'm surprised that they even let him out of their sight." The neighbor turned back to Hermione, "They aren't the nicest people to that poor boy. He never received the sort of attention that Dudley had. It was awful watching the boy grow up, Dudley was spoiled rotten, and Potter was left to hide behind him, picking up his leftovers. It was heart-wrenching. That's why it was so surprising when I heard that Potter ended up at Caistor. What with all that Mr. and Mrs. Dursley did to the poor boy, and then he ends up better than their own son? I can't imagine that acceptance letter went over well."

"It didn't. Harry had a horrible time trying to read his letter. Mr. Dursley kept tossing them in the fire," said Hermione. She looked at the front door, "Harry is one of the kindest, bravest, and noblest people I know. I don't know where I would be if he hadn't save me from that tr—trick in first year."

"Trick? Darling? Who would play a trick on such a nice girl like you?"

Hermione blushed, "Thank you, ma'am. It was awful; I've always been a bit of a book-worm. A number of the third years decided it would be funny to play a horrible trick on the unpopular, buck-toothed, bookworm first year. Harry caught wind of it, actually it was shouted in the Great Hall, and he came and rescued me. Him and Ron. I probably would have died if they hadn't. It was horrible."

The neighbor looked skeptical, "What happened to the people who tried to play the trick on you?"

"Lines, and manual cleaning. I believe they had to polish all of the trophies by hand, scrub the floors in the Great Hall, and polish all the broom handles in the broom cupboard."

"I hadn't been aware that Caistor boarded students. I thought they were only a day school."

Hermione paused a moment, "Well, they are," she stopped, "I live very close to Caistor, Harry lived with my family during the school year. It's an arrangement the school has with families in the area."

"_Oh_, I didn't know that!" the neighbor smiled, "You learn something new everyday. I have a cousin who lives in Lincolnshire, I had never heard of that. I wonder if she participates in this."

A flash of panic flew across Hermione's face, "_Oh_! Well, only if she has a pupil in the school. Caistor likes to keep the students in a household with another student. It makes it easier on the adults who live there."

"That's true," said the neighbor thoughtfully, "It would be trying on her to take care of a teenager at her age."

"HERMIONE!" came from inside the house.

"Is that your name?" asked the neighbor politely.

"Yes, my parents love Shakespeare."

"Good," she said, "Proper people are so hard to come by these days. I suppose you'd better go inside, dearie. It was nice talking with you. I never did like the Dursleys, they're a bit to nosy for their own good. I'd keep my belongings close if I were you," she winked and ducked beneath the wall again to continue her gardening.

Hermione sighed to herself, grabbed her trunk, and dragged it inside the house where Harry and Ron were waiting in the hallway. She dropped her trunk to the ground and looked expectantly at Harry.

"Upstairs," he said shortly and turned to go up the steps.

Hermione glared at his back, pulled her wand from her pocket and cast a levitating charm on her trunk then led it up the steps behind Harry, "Well, where shall I place this, Harry?" she said, the trunk nudging him in the back.

"In the spare room. Ron and I will kip in my room; you can have the spare room."

Hermione looked around the upstairs hallway, all five doors were closed. "Well, which door is it, Harry?"

"That one there," he said, pointing carelessly down the hallway, "This one is my room." He opened the door and walked in, "Come in after putting you trunk in there."

Ron and Hermione exchanged glances, "I'll come help you," Ron offered.

"No, I can manage," Hermione said, "See to Harry. He's in more trouble than I am."

Ron nodded and went through the doorway into Harry's room. Hermione walked down the hallway, opened the door to the spare room and set her trunk down at the foot of the bed. She glanced around at the stark white walls, the wooden furniture and sighed. It was a boring room in a home of boring people. Perfect.

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Harry and Ron were sitting silently in Harry's small bedroom, waiting for Hermione to appear. When she walked through the door, Harry gestured to the end of his bed and she sat down there.

"Well," she began, "Let's talk about these horcruxes. Harry, what did Dumbledore tell you?"

Harry hesitated, "He told me a lot."

"Start at the beginning, mate," offered Ron.

Harry leaned back on his bed, sinking into the pillows behind him, "What is the beginning?"

"Start where Dumbledore began," said Hermione gently, "If that's where he thought was best to begin, start at the same place."

Harry nodded silently and closed his eyes, thinking, "Well, Dumbledore began with Voldemort's mum's family, and his dad's family. That was the first lesson. Our second lesson was when Dumbledore visited Voldemort's orphanage, and talked with a young Voldemort. _Erm_, third lesson was when Voldemort visited the Gaunt's and then killed the Riddles. Then there was the mess with Slughorn. Fourth lesson concerned Voldemort working at Borgin and Burkes, and when Voldemort asked for the Defense position at Hogwarts—"

"—Voldemort asked for the Defense position at Hogwarts?" burst out Ron.

"Yea, ever since the job's been cursed," said Harry. "Our last lesson before _that night_ was when I got the memory from Slughorn."

"Yeah," said Hermione, "Can you tell us a bit more about what happened that night?"

Harry nodded, "After I got the memory, I brought it back to Dumbledore's office. We watched it in the pensieve and that's when we learned about the number of horcruxes that Voldemort was planning on making."

"How many?" asked Ron breathlessly.

"Six, plus a bit in himself."

"Six!" said Hermione, "That's unheard of!"

Harry looked suspiciously at Hermione, "I thought you said there was nothing in the library on the topic?"

"There wasn't, I found the title of a book on them and sent out for it. Flourish and Blotts over-night owled it to me."

"Oh," said Harry, "Did it have a lot of information in the book?"

"Oh, yes! I'll go fetch it, it's in my trunk." Hermione hopped off the bed and raced from the room. When she returned she was clutching a leather-bound book in her arms that looked rather old, "Here it is," she said turning to a page that she had tabbed. She looked up to them, "Listen to this," and then she proceeded to read from the book, "_The horcrux is a matter of the greatest Dark Magic. It is the implementation of living matter into non-living matter. A wizard may, by murder, split his very soul apart and then transfer half into an inanimate object, most likely a small trinket. This object is now considered a 'horcrux.' 'The creation of a Horcrux," cautions Herpo the Foul (ancient Greek Dark Wizard and first creator of the dread basilisk), "results in the continual feeling of being incomplete. If I'd known that I could never have sex again, I would have never created the damned thing!' A horcrux could be the worst way to try and prevent death. This author suggests reading the theories of Jabir ibn Hayyan, also known as Geber, for the creation of the philosophi lapis, or the philosopher's stone. The philosopher's stone…_" Hermione shut the book, "The rest just concerns the stone, which we already know about."

"The author suggests?" said Harry with a glint in his eye, "The author suggests? You don't suppose that Voldemort read the same passage do you?"

Hermione scoffed, "I highly doubt it, Harry. Voldemort is far from stupid, if we were able to research the stone during our first year, Voldemort could've discovered that Flammel knew about long before then." Hermione continued, "Besides, remember that we studied Flammel during fourth year in History of Magic?"

"We did?" said Ron.

"Yes, Ronald," Hermione sighed, "We did."

"That must have been the week we weren't speaking," he mused.

"More than likely," said Hermione tartly. "Now, let's talk a bit more about these horcruxes. Flammel doesn't figure into this anymore, he's dead. What did Dumbledore list as the horcruxes?"

"Well, there was the diary, in second year—"

"—but that's been destroyed, right?" said Ron.

"Yes," said Harry, "Then there was the Gaunt's ring which Dumbledore destroyed."

"How did he destroy it?" asked Hermione.

"I don't know, but remember how is hand was all black and dead looking?" Ron and Hermione both nodded in response to Harry's question, "It was because of the ring."

"_Oh_," said Hermione, she sat up a bit straighter on the bed, "What next?"

"Then there was the locket," said Harry quietly, "That stupid locket."

"Do you think that this mysterious R.A.B. destroyed it?" asked Hermione.

"I don't know," said Harry, "But I would really like to find out."

"What are the other three horcruxes?" asked Ron.

"There's Hufflepuff's cup, something of Ravenclaw's or Gryffindor's and the last one, Dumbledore thinks, is the snake," said Harry.

Silence fell over the room, Hermione was sitting up straight, her eyes fixed on the ceiling. Ron was sitting in Harry's desk chair, his elbows resting on his knees and his hands folded together, eyes fixed on the floor. And Harry was sitting at the head of his bed leaning back on his pillows. It remained silent for a few more moments until Hedwig hooted loudly, flapping her wings against the cage. She startled the three, and Harry got up to let her out of the cage. Ron pushed open the window and Hedwig flew out into the open air.

Ron opened his mouth, "Bugger, I have to send Pig to mum," he started to leave the room when Hermione spoke.

"I don't think that Voldemort would make his snake into a horcrux," she said after seeing Hedwig leaving the room.

"Dumbledore says that he has a lot of control over that snake, even for being a parselmouth," said Harry sharply.

Hermione's face softened, "Dumbledore was a very wise man, Harry, but he wasn't all knowing."

Harry crossed his arms and glared at Hermione, "Alright, why don't you think that the snake is a horcrux."

"Think of what just happened with Hedwig."

"What do you mean?"

"You opened the cage, Ron opened the window, and out she flew. She didn't care whether you wanted her to or not. She wanted out, she left. Why couldn't his snake do the same thing?"

"Voldemort is a parselmouth," said Harry slowly, "He can control snakes."

"Can you control snakes?" Hermione retorted.

"Well, no," said Harry, "But if the snake had a bit of my soul in it, then I bet I could control it better."

"Voldemort doesn't know when a horcrux is destroyed, so how could he control a piece of his soul if it was in another creature, and detached from him."

Harry paused, "Dumbledore believes that the snake is the last horcrux."

"I'm not saying he's wrong, I'm just saying I don't think he's correct."

"_Uh_, Hermione," said Ron, "That's the same thing."

"No, it's not!"

"Yes, it is!"

Harry raised a hand, "ALIGHT!" he said loudly over the two of them, "What do you think about the Ravenclaw or Gryffindor horcrux."

"I think it's more likely that it would be Ravenclaw's," said Hermione.

"Why not something of Gryffindor's?" asked Ron.

"Well, the only known items of Gryffindor's are the sword and the Sorting Hat," said Hermione.

"The only known items," said Ron, "There could be more."

"I don't think so," said Hermione, "_Hogwarts: A History_ seems to think that those are the only relics of his that have survived to present day, and that was written long before Voldemort was at Hogwarts."

"So, he could've found something of his!" argued Ron.

"Maybe," said Hermione doubtfully, "But I think we ought to look into Ravenclaw's artifacts. I think we'll have more luck there."

Harry nodded, "I think that sounds like a good idea. I wonder if Grimmauld Place will have anything about the Founders."

"I don't know, Mrs. Weasley cleaned the house from top to bottom. If it missed her purge, then it'll probably be very boring. I don't think it'll have the information we need."

Ron sighed, "Could it be a cup or something? Like Hufflepuff's?"

"I don't think so, Ron," said Harry, "Voldemort wouldn't chose two cups, that wouldn't make sense. I don't know what it could be," he mused.

"Well, we'll have to do some research," said Hermione, rubbing her hands together excitedly.

Ron groaned, "Do we have to go to the library?"

"Do you think McGonagall will let us?" Hermione asked.

"Maybe," said Harry, "We'll have to owl her and find out."

Hermione's face fell, "The only thing, there is nothing on how to destroy a horcrux, and it isn't in that book I got from Flourish and Blotts."

"Well, we could probably do some research about the founders there, though," said Harry.

"Probably," said Hermione, "But not the information we'll need." She tapped her chin, "I'll owl Flourish and Blotts and see if they have anything with specific information about the founders. They know me well, they'll send the best book they have." She nodded as though that decided the matter, "When Hedwig returns, may I borrow her?"

"Sure," Harry said, looking out the window searching for his owl, "She might not return until tomorrow or the day after."

"Hmm, alright," Hermione said, also glancing out the window, "I'll just have to wait then and see if I can find anything at Grimmauld Place when we get there tomorrow."

"How are we getting there, Harry?" Ron asked.

"I think we'll take the Knight Bus. We can avoid muggle London that way, and the driver knows me, so we should be alright."

Hermione nodded to him. She opened her mouth to say something but a voice called from downstairs. Harry opened his bedroom door and stuck his head out, "WHAT?" he called down.

"DINNER!" came from downstairs.

"_Oh_! Is it that late already?" asked Hermione glancing to the bedside clock on Harry's nightstand. It read 6:29

"Come on, guys," said Harry walking towards the door, "If we don't get down there in a minute, Aunt Petunia won't serve us."

Ron raced out of the room pass Harry and Hermione, who walked out at a much slower pace. Harry closed the door behind him and they walked down the steps into the kitchen where the very unhappy Dursley family was waiting to eat something awful from Dudley's diet.

**Please _Read_ and _Review_!**

Well, would you look at that, another ridiculously long chapter. This one is at almost fourteen pages and probably eight or nine hours of work, at least. This one was a lot harder than the previous chapters, those chapters I was building a story around what we had few facts about so I could create a lot of my own, but now I'm working more in J.K.'s realm. The Trio is hard to start in a conversation, and they're hard to keep in character. I hope I did so, if not I'm sorry, I'll work harder on it in the next chapters.

I am basically on track with my outline, like I said I now have one chapter more than I planned, some of the previous chapters got to be very long and involved, so I cut them off and just added information to the next chapter, which shifted the entire story. So we're looking at about twenty-seven chapters, thereabouts. We'll see.

Oh, and I had the hardest time with the word _sheepishly_, I kept trying to put in _sheepily_. So now I keep thinking that Ron talks with some weird speech impediment in which everything he says, he baa-s. Like a sheep. I don't know why…brain block or something.

KaytiSarai


	8. Meet the Traitors

**Title:** The Secrets of Hermione Granger

**Chapter:** (8?)  
**Disclaimer:** I am not J.K. Rowling, nor do I ever intend to be.  
**Author's Note:** Another new chapter, gosh! Am I good, or am I good? As of the editing of this chapter I have all the way through chapter 11 written, those between here and there do have to be edited still, that's why they aren't posted, before anyone asks.

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Chapter 8**  
_Meet the Traitors  
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When morning dawned over Surrey, it found that Harry, Hermione, and Ron were already awake and roaming around the house. They were collecting the last of all of Harry's worldly possessions and packing them away in his trunk. Even though most of what he owned was second-hand and pre-worn by Dudley, and even though Harry had never thought he owned a lot of things, it turned out to be a sizeable pile of belongings that were piling up in the smallest bedroom at 4 Privat Drive. The bed had been overtaken by clothing that was folding itself thanks to one of Hermione's little-known charms, the floor was a small city of towering book piles thanks to six years to education at Hogwarts, there were small trinkets on his desk including the omnioculars from the World Cup, and the dragon from the Tri-Wizard Tournament. All in all, Harry's room had erupted into a miniature circus, and a rather loud one at that. The Dursleys found themselves awoken by the whirrings and buzzings that were coming from the room, the running up and down the stairs of the three teens, and Ron complaining loudly that he was hungry.

After such a rude awakening, the Dursleys were not much endeared to these two friends of Harry's. Mrs. Dursley grumbled while frying up some eggs and bacon, Mr. Dursley sat at the kitchen table glaring at the television set, and Dudley was complaining about the horrendous lack of television programs so early in the morning. When the breakfast was completed, Mrs. Dursley called to Harry, Ron, and Hermione to come and eat, which they did. Ron wolfed down a large portion of the prepared food, all the while eyed jealously by Dudley who was eating a half a grapefruit. Hermione ate and thanked Mrs. Dursley politely, who just nodded curtly in response. Harry said nothing, but took everyone's plates and put them in the kitchen sink. He looked meaningfully at Hermione who raised an eyebrow at him. He nodded, she shrugged, and a mischievous grin overtook her face.

"_Nettoyez!_" she said, pointing her wand at the kitchen sink. The water turned on, the sponge sprang to life, and the dishes began to clean themselves. Mr. Dursley and Dudley leapt from their seats in surprise, but Mrs. Dursley looked over at the dishes and a slightly reminiscent smile crept on her face. She calmly drank her tea and continued reading the newspaper, ignoring the splutterings of her husband and son.

Hermione, Harry, and Ron left the kitchen, Ron was laughing at the reactions of the two Dursley men, Harry merely smiled, and Hermione was chastising herself under her breath for such ill usage of magic.

They climbed the steps and emerged in the upstairs hallway, "Well, I suppose we'll get going then, Harry?" asked Hermione.

"Yea," he said quietly.

"Alright!" said Ron briskly, clapping his hands together, "Let's get our stuff and get out of this place, mate! It's terrible here." He walked into Harry's room and began to toss the stuff he'd used the previous night into his trunk.

Hermione moved closer to Harry and asked him gently if he wanted to say good-bye. He scoffed in reply and Hermione noticed that he was blinking rather faster than usual.

"It's alright, we'll understand if you want to say good-bye," said Hermione, her hand on his arm.

"No," said Harry, "I don't want to say good-bye. I shan't miss them."

"Harry—"

"—Hermione," he said in a pained voice, "Please…just drop it."

She nodded and turned into the spare room and began to collect her belongings. Harry stood there a moment, watching her organize everything. He rubbed his hand under his eyes and then walked into his room. His stuff was all packed into his trunk and the room no longer looked like his. It was now Dudley's second bedroom again, anything that had been left was there when Harry moved in six summers ago. The bent up air rifle, the smashed through television set, and even the small working tank was still in the room. The parrot cage had been taken over by Hedwig as a second home, but Harry left that in favor of the one he had bought in Diagon Alley when Hagrid had given him the owl as his eleventh birthday gift.

All bits of parchment had been gathered up and placed in neat piles, the broken quills had be put in the rubbish bin, the Quidditch posters had been removed from the wall. Harry looked around it sadly, remembering the cakes he had stored in the loose floorboards under the bed when Smeltings had imposed the diet, he remembered doing his homework under the sheets by torch light, he remembered the tropical birds that used to perch on the window sill when Sirius would write to him. He hated every inch of the room, and yet it held so many memories. Some were good, such as receiving that Broomstick Servicing Kit that Hermione had sent while she was on holiday in France; and others were bad, such as being fed tinned soup through a cat flap; there were the humorous memories, like when the Weasleys had come and stolen him in their flying Ford Anglia; and there were also those terrifying memories like when Uncle Vernon had blamed him for Dobby's magic during the summer of third year.

No, he certainly did not have to say good-bye to the Dursleys and their cruelness. He supposed he ought to thank them though; at least he didn't look like a whale or a hippopotamus.

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Harry led his friends out to the end of the drive, and then turned down the street. Hermione and Ron glanced at each other but continued to follow him. After they turned down Wisteria Walk Ron finally decided it was time to ask where they were walking.

"To the park," Harry answered shortly.

"_Oh_," said Ron. They walked in silence a bit longer, "Why?"

"Muggles, Ron," said Hermione.

"_Oh_," he said again. Once again silence. "I thought muggles couldn't see the Knight Bus."

"They can't."

Silence.

"Then why are we walking to the park?" asked Ron.

"Because, you dolt, they can see us!" Hermione said, speeding up to catch Harry and walk beside him.

"_Oh_."

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It was a rather short walk using Harry's cut through between Wisteria Walk and Magnolia Crescent. When they arrived at the park, Harry walked over to the swing set and sat down on the last remaining unbroken swing. Ron looked around at the half-destroyed playground and gave a low whistle.

"Looks like some was practicing a Reducto spell around here."

"Nope," said Harry who was digging through his trunk in search of his wand, "Dudley and his gang."

Hermione was perched on the lid of her trunk in silence, she was watching Harry dig through his trunk, "Why did you throw your wand in there anyway?"

"I don't know. It probably happened since we were so busy packing."

"I have mine," offer Hermione, pulling her wand from a slim pocket in her trousers.

Harry looked up and smiled, "Great! Just stick your wand arm out."

Hermione did so and with a loud bang a huge three-decker bus squealed to a spot in front of them. The door opened to reveal a piteously skinny, sallow faced sort of creature in a purple uniform.

"Welcome to the Knight Bus," he said sluggishly, "emergency transport for the stranded witch or wizard. Just stick out your wand hand, step on board, and we can take you anywhere you want to go. My name is Sirap Notlih, and I will be your conductor this morning. Where would you like to go?"

Harry stepped forward, "Grimmauld Place."

"Right this way," said Sirap Notlih. He reached forward and helped Hermione lift her trunk up the steps on into the bus, Harry and Ron followed with Harry's trunk, and then Ron and Sirap went back for Ron's trunk. Once they were all onboard, the driver shut the door and there was a loud deafening bang, the bus was no longer in the park was racing its way down a narrow street in what seemed to be Edinburgh.

"Oi!" said Ron, "What happened?"

"This is were we was before you flagged us down," said Sirap, "Now it'll be eleven sickles for each of ya. There'll be about another six stops, ain't that right?" he called up to the front. The driver called back with a guttural "Yar!" and Sirap looked expectantly at the three.

"Right," said Hermione. She reached into her pocket and produced the eleven sickles asked for, and then passed them on to the conductor.

Harry rummaged around in his trunk before finding his money bag and then he shoved the eleven sickles into the conductor's greasy palms. Ron was looking slightly uneasy, and Sirap was looking at him through squinted eyes, "Ya gotta pay up, boy."

"Well, the thing of the matter is—" began Ron.

"—It's alright, Ron," said Hermione. She pulled another eleven sickles from her pocket and handed them to Sirap, "That's for him," said she, nodding toward Ron. The conductor nodded and gave her a creepy sort of grin. Hermione returned it uncertainly and turned back to her friends.

"Thank, Hermione," Ron said, his ears tinged red.

"That's what friends are for," she said with a gentle smile.

Harry sat back in the comfortable chairs that were on the Knight Bus. It was different than he remembered, but why would there be rows of beds during the day? Then in that case shouldn't it be the Day Bus? That didn't have the same sort of ring as the Knight Bus, homophones and all that.

"Harry?" said Hermione, breaking through his thoughts.

"What?"

"Didn't you hear what I asked?"

"No, sorry," he said, turning his attention fully on Hermione.

"I got an owl last night from my mum."

"_Oh_? What'd she say?"

"Nothing much, basically wished me luck." Hermione looked at the ground, she sighed, "She also sent me a book that I had laying around."

Harry arched an eyebrow, waiting for her to continue.

Hermione reached into her trunk and pulled out _The Amazing Lives of the Founders Four and All the Details You Didn't Think You Wanted to Know_. She handed the book to Harry who took it gingerly from her, this book also seemed to be very old, the leather was worn, and spoke of many hands that had held it. There were spots on the covering where the oils from previous owners' hands had left prints.

He turned the book this way and that and then looked up at his friend, "You had a book like that laying about in your room?" he asked skeptically.

"Well, you know how much I love to read," said Hermione cheerfully.

"Hermione," said Ron, breaking into the conversation, "That book must be centuries old!"

Hermione shrugged, "Well, it was on sale at Scrivenshaft's in Hogmeade."

"I didn't know they sold books there," said Ron. But he laughed, "Trust Hermione to find a remote place that sells strange books."

"You're ever so kind, Ronald."

"Well, did you read the book yet?" asked Harry.

Hermione looked at him incredulously, "Of course I have!"

"I was just asking."

She held the book under Ron's nose, "This is also how I know that Gryffindor has no other possessions surviving today!"

Ron held his hands up in surrender. The Knight Bus suddenly banged again and they stopped in a deserted and desolate square, "GRIMMAULD PLACE!" came from the front of the bus.

Hermione rose from the chair and, with the help of Sirap, carried her trunk off the bus. Harry and Ron also removed their trunks and deposited them in the street. Sirap turned before climbing back onto the bus, tipped his cap, and grinned at Hermione. He stepped back onto the bus, which then proceeded to race down the street at a ridiculous pace, houses, rubbish bins and cars all moving out of its way. There was a loud bang, like a cannon going off, and the bus was gone.

The three turned in the square to look at the big empty space between houses eleven and thirteen. Harry sighed despondently and heaved his trunk across the street to the pavement. Hermione and Ron followed suit and trailed behind Harry in a single file. Harry led them directly in front of where the Black house should be, but there was nothing.

"What happens when the Secret Keeper dies?" whispered Ron to Hermione.

"The Secret dies with him," she answered back.

"Well?" asked Harry impatiently, "Can't we get in?"

"Of course, Professor Dumbledore told us where it was. I can see the house," she said with a twinge of smugness in her voice, "Can't you?"

"No," said Ron, "Can you Harry?"

"No."

The pair looked helplessly at Hermione who sighed, "You know where it is! Just think of the address in your mind and it will appear there," she said, pointing to a seemingly empty lot.

Ron shut his eyes hard, and then reopened them, "Nothing."

"I didn't say look harder, I said you have to think harder."

"I see it now," said Harry. He smiled to his friend, "I don't know where we'd be without you."

"On the pavement till Kingdom comes."

Ron frowned, "I still can't see it."

"Ugh! Come on!" Hermione said, dragging Ron up the steps he couldn't see. Hermione opened the door and pulled him inside, "Can you see it now?" she whispered fervently in his ear.

"Yes," he said just as quietly, his ears red once again.

"Good."

They lowered their trunks quietly to the floor, shut the door silently behind them, and then tip-toed into the kitchen. Hermione stole a glance at the black, moth-eaten curtains that were hanging over the portraits of Sirius's rather mad mother. They made it silently through the hallway and then into the kitchen beyond where, to their not-so-delightful surprise, three people were sitting at the table drinking back warm butterbeers.

Ron and Hermione crashed into Harry as he suddenly stopped upon entering. The three at the table were just as surprised. One of the mugs fell to the table with a loud crash, butterbeer spilling everywhere.

"WHAT ARE YOU DOING IN MY HOUSE!" roared Harry, advancing quickly through the doorway to the table, "WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE?" he asked again.

The three at the table were so surprised that none of them said anything. Ron had rushed forward with his wand outstretched, ready to curse the lot of them.

"YEA! WHY ARE YOU LOT HERE?" he cried.

"Sit down, Mr. Potter," said Lucius from the head of the table, waving his hand congenially at one of the chairs.

"I WILL NOT BE INVITED TO SIT DOWN IN MY OWN HOUSE! YOU'RE SUPPOSED TO BE IN AZKABAN!"

"_Oh_?" Lucius said carelessly, "Why is that?"

"BECAUSE YOU'RE A DEATH EATER!"

"Such a harsh accusation, Mr. Potter. If you'd be so kind to sit down. There is some butterbeer still on the hob. Draco, if you'd be so kind."

"YOU WERE THERE! IN THE DEPARTMENT OF MYSTERIES!"

"Indeed I was."

"YOU SAW SIRIUS DIE!"

"On that charge, I'm afraid you are incorrect. If you remember correctly, my niece had stunned me. I believe she is called Nymphadora Tonks? Well, in any case, I was not involved in that portion of that evening," Lucius said silkily. "Draco? Why don't you offer these Gryffindors some butterbeer?"

"Yes, father," he muttered, getting up and filling three tankards of the frothy liquid from the pot on the stove. He returned and placed them all carefully on the table.

Hermione reached for one but found her hand slapped away by Ron, "What do you think you're doing?" he hissed.

"I was having some butterbeer," she said.

"Don't take anything from these pillocks! You know we can't trust them, they're Death Eaters."

"_Oh_, Ron!" said Hermione, she sat down at the table and drank from the tankard of butterbeer,

"Thanks, Draco," she said.

He nodded in response, but didn't say anything. Harry and Ron watched this in surprise, but neither Lucius Malfoy, nor Severus Snape, who was also sitting at the table, even blinked at the exchange.

"WILL SOMEONE PLEASE TELL ME WHAT'S GOING ON, HERE?" shouted Harry.

"Really, Mr. Potter, you ought to take a seat," Mr. Malfoy said calmly, smiling slightly at the out come of this surprise visit.

"I'd really prefer not to take a seat thanks, Malfoy. What I want is you to get out of my house, all three of you."

"Potter," sneered Snape, "Sit down!"

"Snape!" said Harry with venom in his voice, "I never trusted you, but I trusted Dumbledore. You've betrayed both our trusts."

"Like I said, sit down," said Snape firmly. He looked blankly at Harry who made no move to sit. "Fine," Snape said tartly, "Miss Granger is smart enough to have sat down and enjoy the butterbeer, but then again she always has been a bit of a know-it-all. You both just stand there like you always have, letting her make all the smart decisions."

Ron's mouth dropped, "Don't call her a know-it-all! She's the cleverest person I know."

"And she's not afraid to share her knowledge," sneered Draco, "Whatever bit of information she has she shares, whether the listener cares or not."

Hermione just sat there, smiling at the two of them. She calmly drank from the tankard and said absolutely nothing.

"Look it here, Death Eater!" said Ron, advancing towards the table with his fists drawn, "You leave her alone!"

"She doesn't seem to mind our teasing one bit," Draco said with a smirk, "In fact, I happen to think she's rather enjoying it."

Ron looked at Hermione and saw that she was openly smiling at the insults that were flying around the room, "What's the matter with you?" he cried.

"Nothing's the matter with me," she answered. "Really you two! Sit down, the butterbeer's not poisoned—"

"—How do you know?" said Ron darkly.

"Because Draco would never poison me. He's much too creative for that."

"_Stupefy!_" said Harry, pointing his wand at Lucius Malfoy.

Lucius collapsed in his seat, dropping the tankard of butterbeer and spilling the yellow foamy liquid all over the stone floor of the kitchen. Draco leapt out of his seat and knelt next to his father. He glared up to Harry and sneered in his direction. Draco removed him wand from the pocket of his robes and pointed it at his father's chest, "_Renervate_!" he said.

Lucius opened his eyes, sat up, placed a hand on his forehead, and slowly shook his head. He looked up to Harry with the first genuine smile that Harry had ever seen on his face, "That was an amazing stupefying charm! I'm not sure I've ever met one so powerful!" Draco helped his father back to his feet, Lucius was still shaking his head and muttering, "Simply amazing! So much power!"

Harry looked uneasily at Ron, Ron had squinted his eyes at Hermione who had been wearing a worried expression ever since the elder Malfoy had tumbled from his chair. Ron walked over to Hermione, grabbed her by the arm, and heaved her out of the chair. Draco jumped up again and glared at Ron, but Ron didn't seem to notice. He proceeded to drag Hermione from the room by force, despite all her protesting—verbal and physical. It seemed to have no effect on Ron who simply continued pulling her from the room. However, a well-placed _Petrificus Totalus!_ did the trick wonderfully.

Ron's limbs snapped together as he toppled to the floor, Hermione removed her arm from his grasp and held it to her body. She turned back to the four others in the room and saw the Draco had his wand pointed at Ron.

Now, Harry was enraged that Draco had performed magic on Ron, "What do you think you're doing, ferret?"

Draco lazily turned his gaze to Harry, "I was trying to save your friend from a broken wrist," he drawled, "I fear I may have been too late to prevent bruising." He walked over to Hermione, "Here, let me see that."

And to Harry's astonishment, Hermione nodded tearfully and placed her wrist in Draco's hand. Draco pushed the sleeve of her shirt and looked at Hermione's delicately boned wrist and pale skin. He turned it fist one way and then the other. When he was satisfied he released her wrist and smiled, "Well, it's not broken."

Hermione chuckled, "It'll be bruised though," she said quietly.

"Yes," Draco agreed, "I'll owl my mum for some bruise-healing paste, we've used up all the stores that the Order had here."

Hermione nodded her thanks, "My mom doesn't keep it on hand anymore. With you and Avery in school, she didn't need it so much."

Draco smirked at her, "Because you've never needed it before now," he said sarcastically.

"Nope," she agreed, "Never," she added with a smirk.

"WILL SOMEONE PLEASE TELL ME WHAT IS GOING ON HERE!" exclaimed Harry, sparks shooting out of the end of his wand.

Draco rolled his eyes, "First, put your wand in your pocket. I don't want any Gryffindor sparks burning holes through my clothing. Second, sit the hell down, Saint Potter." Draco walked back around the table and sat down again. Neither Ron nor Harry moved.

Hermione sighed, pulled her wand from her trouser pocket, and pointed it at Harry and Ron, "_Locomotor Mortis!_" The two boys found their legs bound together. Harry struggled to move them apart, but only caused himself to fall over. Ron just toppled over the moment Hermione cast the curse. "_Locomotor _Harry!" Harry soared into one of the seats around the table, "_Locomotor _Ron!" Ron joined Harry at the table in the seat next to him.

"Lovely," said Snape with a smirk, "Now that we're all sitting, I suppose there are a number of things we have to talk about."

Harry and Ron were struggling in their seats, trying desperately to wrench their legs apart. They were both spewing all sorts of vulgar and unpleasant language. Hermione grew tired of it and _Silencio_!ed the pair of them. Now they were just sitting there, glaring rather disagreeably at her. Ron's ears and face were both fully red in anger; Harry's eyes seemed to be burning holes through Hermione's, seeing directly inside of her. She shivered at the feeling and looked at the pair of them.

"Listen to me; both of you," she said, "There are some things that we," she gestured to herself, Draco, Lucius Malfoy, and Snape, "have to tell you. Professor Dumbledore didn't actually want anyone besides us to know, but now we have to tell you. Especially since you'll be running around doing who knows what." She looked at them and noticed that they were listening, "Now, I'm going to remove the silencing charm. Do you promise to act like the adults that you are instead of running around and cursing everything with a wand?"

Neither replied, but then Harry nodded stiffly. Ron quickly followed suit.

"Good," Hermione breathed, "_Finte Incantatum_!" she waved her wand over her friends and both the silencing charm and the leg-locker curse were lifted.

"Cor, Hermione!" said Ron angrily, "Thanks for the curses!" he rubbed his neck, and then twisted it, cracking the joints.

"Ron! That's disgusting!" Hermione said with a look of revulsion on her face.

"Well, so is cursing your best mates in the back!"

"But I haven't!"

"Yes! I rather think you have," said Ron, "Here we are at twelve Grimmauld Place with Dumbledore's murderer, his would be murderer, and the would be murderer of my only sister! Then you curse us, drop into these chairs like we're sacks of dragon dung, expecting us to listen to you! You claim that you aren't cursing us in the back, but everything you've done says something else!"

"Listen up, Weasley!" said Draco dangerously from the other side of the table, "There are things that you have to know, so shut it. This is a time to listen, not to speak." He leaned back in the chair, "Do you understand?"

Harry sneered, "Why are we going to listen to you lot?"

"Because, Mr. Potter," said Lucius from the head of the table, "We are looking for horcruxes."

Ron nearly fell out of his seat, "Where did you hear about horcruxes? Why are you looking for them?"

Lucius thought back, "I believe we learned about the horcruxes just about seventeen years ago. Isn't that right, Severus?"

"I'm sure you remember the time, too, Lucius," Snape said after taking a swallow of butterbeer. "In fact, why don't you just relate the whole evening to them?"

"Are you ever anything but sarcastic?"

"Never."

Lucius sighed and turned back to Harry and Ron. He looked at them both very seriously and said, "There is a lot we have to do, and there is not much time to do it."

"What are you talking about?" asked Harry warily.

"Look, Potter," said Draco, "There are four horcruxes that have to be destroyed that we know of, right?" He sat up in his chair, leaned on his elbows against the table and looked Harry right in the eye, "You are the only one in this room with the power to destroy them without being hurt or killed."

"What are you talking about?" Ron said.

"Remember the Chamber of Secrets opening?" Draco drawled.

"All because of your stupid father!"

"Careful, Weasley," Draco cautioned, "We outnumber you. Dumbledore was the one who told my 'stupid father' to slip the diary to your sister."

Ron spluttered.

"In addition to that, Dumbledore made sure that you figured out how to get to the Chamber, especially after Hermione was petrified. Dumbledore stuffed that piece of parchment into her fist before you came up."

"What are you talking about, Malfoy?" said Harry venomously, "That doesn't even make any sense. Why would Dumbledore risk another student dying after what happened last time?"

"It was a test, you idiot," said Draco, "A test for you, to see how you would handle it. We could've taken the diary from the Weasley girl any time we wanted and stopped it from happening. They had to know if you could safely destroy a horcrux since you and Voldemort are so _closely_ tied together. They also had to find out what abilities and sensibilities you had gained from Voldemort that night. Parselmouth? That was a surprise." He smirked, "They had wondered whether you could manage something safely without killing anyone. Fortunate thing about Lockhart though, no one really liked him," he smirked at Hermione and said, "Right, Mya?"

Hermioned blushed and muttered something under her breath.

"What was that?" Draco asked innocently.

"You are a foul, evil—"

"—Amazingly handsome man?" Draco interrupted helpfully

"I was going to call you a blood-sucking bugbear."

"_Oh_? Ouch," Draco said, putting a hand on his chest just over his heart, "I'm hurt, injured beyond repair. Your words truly wound me."

"Draco," said Lucius in a warning tone, "That is enough with the sarcasm," the senior Malfoy turned to the two boys, "I'm not quite sure where to begin. Albus never told us how much we should tell you after all was said and done."

"After what was said and done?" asked Harry.

"His death," answered Lucius.

"You knew he was going to die!" Ron asked incredulously.

Lucius nodded, "So did he. Severus knew, Draco knew, Mya knew. We all knew. It all had to be planned accordingly so that it appeared like Draco was doing it to stay in Voldemort's Circle, trying to repair the Malfoy name," he sneered, "As though it could be tarnished. Anyhow, Albus' death was unavoidable; we tried to talk him out of it many times."

"Who is this 'we' that you keep mentioning?" asked Harry.

"_Ah_! That would be myself, my wife, Severus, Rassia, who is Mya's mother, and my son."

"And why are you a 'we'?"

"We are Order spies."

"What!" exclaimed Harry, "How are you spies for the Order?" He looked a Lucius directly, "I saw you in the graveyard! You were in the Department of Mysteries!" Harry turned his gaze to Draco, "I saw you in Borgin and Burkes over the summer, I saw you almost kill Dumbledore." Harry then turned his gaze to Severus, "And you! I saw you actually murder him!"

"Potter," said Snape, "I think you should be aware of what you see and what is actually happening."

"I think even you could grasp that a spy has to appear to be fully in the employ of the person on whom they are spying," said Draco coldly, "Voldemort wanted me to kill Dumbledore, I don't have a choice, Dumbledore must die. I have to appear to be working on a plan for that. What you saw at Borgin and Burkes was me putting in appearances to be doing my bidding."

"You were never going to kill him, were you?" asked Harry quietly.

"Of course he wasn't!" said Snape, "It was my task all along! We couldn't have an underage wizard killing someone, we are not above the law. If Draco had killed Albus than he would be sentenced to life in Azkaban."

"Why aren't you in Azkaban?" Ron said accusingly to Mr. Malfoy.

Lucius smiled, "I've been living here ever since then. It's unplottable, the Ministry couldn't find me, and Albus wasn't inclined to tell them."

Harry put a hand to his head, "I think my brain is going to explode."

"Potter, please have the decency to do that outside. I don't want to be cleaning up your brains later," Draco said.

"It's an expression, Malfoy."

"_Oh_? I was hoping you were serious." Draco stood up and walked over to the stores of food, after picking through some things he found noodles and cheese and began to boil some water.

"What are you doing?" asked Ron.

"I'm hungry, I'm making macaroni and cheese."

"You can cook?" said Harry surprised.

"Of course I can cook!" said Draco highly affronted, "Now, who's hungry?"

After everyone agreed that they were hungry, Hermione stood up from her place and went over to help Draco prepare lunch, she looked at what he was making and frowned, "You know, macaroni and cheese is hardly a nutritious lunch."

"So says you," he retorted.

"And just about every health book out there."

Draco sighed, "Fine, what do you want to make for lunch?"

Hermione thought for a moment, "Is there any ham?"

Draco nodded and pulled some from the chiller.

Hermione smiled, "I'll make some quiche."

Draco smirked, "I'm sure you will."

Hermione smacked his arm, "Get a cutting board and cut the ham into chunks." She looked in the chiller and pulled out hunks of Swiss, cheddar, and mozzarella cheese. She put them all into a large bowl, pointed her wand at it and the cheese hunks cut themselves into perfect sized cubes.

"Show off!" said Draco from where he was cutting apart the ham

"It's not my fault you can't do this," Hermione said smugly. She pointed her wand at the ham, which cut itself into perfect cubes, exactly the same size as the cheese.

Draco smirked, "You're right, but you can't do this either!" He waved his wand and one of the circular ceramic baking dished soared from the cabinet and landed gently of the counter.

"I can too!"

"Not finished!" He waved his wand in a circular motion inside the pan, coating it with a perfect layer of dough. He picked up the bowl with the cheeses and ham and dumped it into the dough. He waved his wand over the top of the quiche and dough formed a cross-hatch pattern covering the cheese and ham. He looked up at her and smirked, "Now I'm finished. You can't do that!" he said smugly.

Hermione looked impressed, "You've been practicing?"

"Of course, I have. You're besting me in class, I can't have you being a better cook than me as well."

Hermione laughed and pushed Draco away from her, "You know I'm a rotten cook. It shan't be hard to best me in that!"

"You're not terrible," Draco said and paused, he smirked and continued, "If one doesn't mind the flavor of boiled leather tainting everything one eats."

"It's not all that bad!" she shrieked in response.

"Of course, not," said Draco condescendingly. He walked over to the oven with the quiche in hand, opened the door and put the dish inside. He closed the door and turned to look at her, "I really do admire how well you are able to boil water. I don't know if I've seen you fail yet."

The oven dinged behind him, and Draco pulled the finished and cooked quiche from it. He placed it on the counter-top where it steamed and cooled until it could be cut. Then Hermione pointed her wand at it, cutting it into eight equal size slices. Draco then pointed six of the slices onto plates, and levitated them over to the table, one in front of each person. Hermione brought over some forks and napkins and then sat down in front of one of the plates.

Ron dug into the ham and cheese quiche quickly, without a single thought to anything other than slaking his hunger. Harry was slightly more decorous about the whole affair, but he was also busy observing the gentle banter between both Hermione and Draco. They insulted each other as they always had at school, but none of it seemed to be quite as venomous, Harry was surprised to note that Draco was particularly keen on some of Hermione's faults and had no problem pointing them out and making fun of her for them.

They continued eating peacefully until each had finished his plate at which point Lucius said they ought to continue this conversation in the upstairs study where it was much more comfortable. Severus, Draco, and Hermione all readily agreed with him and proceeded to leave the room. Hermione looked back at the two boys who were still sitting at the table.

"Well? Aren't you coming?"

**Please _Read_ and _Review_!**

Yipe, very long, very very long. I had to force myself to stop typing here because there is still a lot of information that Harry and Ron have to learn about Hermione, and the Order and all those things must now fall into place. Hopefully it goes well :crosses fingers:

Anyhow, this chapter is very long, just under 6,000 words. It's a bit shorter than some of my other chapters, but I figured this was as good a place as any to stop as it is 15 pages long. Oh, and if you do notice any grammar/spelling/other errors, don't hesitate to say something, they do slip by me sometimes, even through I proofread everything. Thanks.

KaytiSarai


	9. Further Explanations

**Title:** The Secrets of Hermione Granger

**Chapter:** (9-?)  
**Disclaimer:** I am not J.K. Rowling, nor do I ever intend to be.  
**Author's Note:** I know that I normally update every Friday, and I am now two weeks behind. I do actually have those chapters written, but I haven't had time to proofread them yet. I'm in the midst of packing. I leave on Monday for Ireland, I'm doing a semester abroad there, so I've been very busy getting ready, and all that jazz. I have all the way to Chapter 11 written, just not proofed, and I'm working on Chapter 12, I'll probably finish a number of chapters on the flight over. I have six hours to do absolutely nothing. Joy. Well, enjoy the chapter, sorry for the long wait.

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Chapter 9**  
_Further Explanations  
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The upstairs study was still in the shape that it had been left in when the Order vacated the premises after Sirius' death. The curtains were still filthy, even though Mrs. Weasley had worked so hard to keep them clean and doxy-free. Harry were sure that he could hear some faint buzzing from the drapery, but he could've been imagining it. The writing desk was still sitting in the corner of the room, but now it was left open so it could no longer play host to any rogue boggart.

Lucius Malfoy made himself comfortable in one of the large, thread-bare wing-backed chairs that populated the room. He managed to sit in the chair so elegantly, that even though it was worn and ancient, he managed to make it look like the throne in Buckingham Palace—minus the fact that it was actually a time-worn piece of antiquity that really belonged in the bin.

Draco sat himself down on the sofa, near the end and leaned against the arm, observing everyone else in the room. Harry noted with a frown that Hermione smiled at Draco and then sat down next to him, completely of her own free will. Severus seemed inclined to remain standing.

Ron threw himself down into the sofa opposite Hermione and Draco. Harry followed his friend and sat down next to him, but did not make himself as comfortable as Ron or Hermione had. He was on his guard, he did not trust half the people in the room, and Hermione was causing him some distress.

"Well," said Lucius, "I suppose we ought to start at the beginning with introductions. Let's all go around the room and introduce ourselves," he looked around the room and met everyone's eyes, pausing when he met Hermione's. "I'll begin. My name is Lucius Malfoy. I live at my ancestral home in Wiltshire with my wife and son. I am not employed, but use the Trust of the Malfoy family to provide for my family and donate heavily to causes in which I believe, such as the Muggle-Born Acclimation Society, St. Mungo's Hospital, and to the Ministry when it suits me."

Ron snorted at this, obviously trying to hide outright laughter.

Lucius frowned at Ron, but continued, "I have one son who is betrothed to be married in a few years. My wife is also a benefactress of the Muggle-Born Acclimation Society. She gives heavily to the organization and often volunteers her time and aid to the society. Alright, Mr. Weasley. I think you ought to be next," said Mr. Malfoy with a smirk.

Ron looked surprised, but he opened his mouth and said, "My name is Ronald Weasley. _Erm_, I live at the Burrow with my mum and dad and all my brothers and Ginny. _Err_, Well, I'm not really employed at all, but I think I'd like to be an auror. I think I'd be rather good at it you know," he rambled on for a bit. "_Er_, right. I think that's about that." He looked around the room expectantly, hoping someone else would speak up.

Draco smirked, "I'm Draco Malfoy. I live in Wiltshire with my parents at Malfoy Manor. I am currently a student at Hogwarts, or rather _was_ a student at Hogwarts, but I was able to take my N.E.W.T.s early so I could be employed after the business with the Order is finished. I also make donations in my name to certain causes. My biggest beneficiary is the Muggle-Born Acclimation Society which is headed by the Kowal family. I also happen to be betrothed to their youngest daughter, Amelia." He smirked again as he heard Hermione groan under her breath next to him.

Severus stepped forward, "I am Severus Snape, you all know that and would do well to remember that. I am not married, not betrothed, do not have children. I have two nieces too many, and one nephew, one god-son, but he is currently being a bit of a berk and I might decide to disown him. I am a Professor at Hogwarts, although that part of my life is now over. I'll go into potion making; it's much quieter than dealing with whingy first years. I live in Bolton of Greater Manchester, Spinner's End to be precise. Don't come and visit me."

Hermione swallowed, only Harry was next and he seemed reluctant to speak, "Harry, why don't you go next. I have a lot of things to say."

He nodded to her, "Alright. I'm Harry Potter. I was a student at Hogwarts, but now I'm chasing down horcruxes. I grew up with the worst muggles you could imagine in a town in Surrey. I own this house here; it was left to me by my godfather, Sirius. I have ambitions to be an auror after I kill Voldemort," he paused, "if I survive."

Hermione cast him a sympathetic look and she took a deep breath. She looked around the room and saw Mr. Malfoy giving her an encouraging look, she felt Draco gently squeeze her hand, and Snape's face was as sour as ever. Harry and Ron looked at her curiously and she began, "My name is Amelia Kowal, I am better known by Hermione, which is my second name." She looked across the space to Harry and Ron. Ron's mouth had fallen open, but Harry was just sitting there gazing coolly at her, so she continued, "I grew up in Wiltshire as well, at the Kowal Estate. My mother now runs the Muggle-Born Acclimation Society after the murder of my father. I have an older sister, Airell, and a younger brother, Avery. Avery is a year below us and he was sorted into Slytherin, Airell finished three years ago, she was also a Slytherin. My father was a spy for Albus Dumbledore, and he was murdered by Voldemort when it was discovered. That happened only after the Tri-Wizard tournament."

Harry looked at her carefully, "Your father was murdered by Voldemort?"

"Yes," she said bravely, fighting off tears.

"Why did he spy on Voldemort?"

"Because Voldemort tried to abduct me when I was very young, so Professor Dumbledore suggested our betrothal," she nodded to Draco, "And having Uncle Lucius bring my dad into the Death Eaters. We reckoned that if Voldemort thought my father obedient he wouldn't continue to try and kill me. A year later Voldemort went to Godric's Hollow and he murdered _your_ parents. We thought that would let us live as we wanted to, but Narcissa's cousin had sent her an owl concerning horcruxes. That meant that coming out was not possible. So, my death was staged when I was three years old, the Grangers were kind enough to allow me to use their name at Hogwarts. They are such nice people."

"Who are the Grangers if they aren't your parents?" asked Ron.

"They're the groundskeepers at my home. Uncle Edward is most kind to me, as is Aunt Jane," Hermione smiled fondly of them for a moment and then frowned, "Ironically; they really are my actual Aunt and Uncle. Uncle Edward is my father's cousin, so he's technically my second cousin, but all the same. He's a squib, Aunt Jane is a muggle. My mother was a Prince, Eileen was her aunt," Hermione looked at the ground and swallowed thickly, "Making Professor Snape my second cousin."

Harry paled at the news; Ron's mouth was agape again.

"Shut your mouth, Weasley," drawled Draco, "You're likely to catch a doxy in it the way these curtains are buzzing."

Harry abruptly stood up and walked the short distance between the sofas to hover over Hermione, "Why haven't you told us any of this?" he stood up and began pacing, "You're somehow so entangled in this whole mess and never bothered to mention it to us? To your best mates? You didn't bother telling us that little secret that you aren't who you pretend you are?"

"But I am!" Hermione said, "I am exactly who I've been acting as! There was no reason for me to act differently! I just had to change my name!"

"Mya," said Draco, "You don't have to justify yourself to these pillocks."

"Draco, you're not helping the situation."

"I never offered to. I was just making a statement."

"Look, Harry, Ron," Hermione said, "I had no choice, but once again I have no choice. I have to tell you, but you can't tell anyone else!"

"Why does he call you Mya?" asked Ron who was red around the ears and neck, clearly angry.

"Because it can be short for both Amelia and Hermione," said Draco scathingly, "Besides, I think I should be allowed to call her whatever I want. I've known her far longer than either of you. We grew up together! We've learned things about each other that you could not possibly even begin to comprehend!" He rose from the sofa and stalked towards the pair, "You don't know the number of times that you idiots sent her to me crying do you? Do you!" He was almost shouting now, "YOU," he said pointing at Ron, "are the most insensitive person I have ever cared to lay eyes on. She has liked you for as long as I can remember, and for what reason I can't even recall. And what do you do? You go and argue with her for all you're worth, as though it's the only thing you ever learned growing up." He now turned his eyes on Harry, "And YOU are the most ungrateful person I've ever had the pleasure of not meeting. I can't tell you how many times she's lain her life on the line for you. You can't imagine the stress and pressure she suffered trying to prepare you for all those inane circumstances that you worked yourself into."

Draco was standing there stiffly, but still not done in his diatribe. Both Harry and Ron had been cowed enough to sink back into the sofa, but now Draco was towering over them in such a rage as they had never seen. He pointed once again at Harry, "She tried to tell you to learn occlumency. Why? Because she knew exactly what was happening between you and Uncle Sev, she knew that you weren't learning your lessons, that you weren't practicing. Even she could break into your mind and she is the worse legilimens I've ever met!" He turned back to Ron, "You! I haven't anything left to even criticize you for, I just can't stand what you've done to her. You send her into tears without a thought or care in all the world. There were a number of times that was the only reason I made fun of you—anger over what you did to her!" Draco turned his back on them and saw his father's black expression, he looked at Hermione and saw that she was just sitting there in silence. Draco marched across the short distance, flopped on the sofa next to Hermione and grabbed her hand, then squeezing it to reassure both himself and her.

Harry and Ron were silent, flabbergasted, shocked, surprised and any of the synonyms that go with these words. Lucius observed them and sighed at his son's lack of tact. Of course the boys had often been awful to Hermione, taking her for granted, but they also cared a great deal for her and had, perhaps, not realized what they were doing and its toll on her. Lucius sat up in the chair and addressed the two boys, they looked up to him, expecting to hear more invectives and criticisms from this person who was, apparently, very important in Hermione's life.

"There is more that you need to know about us," Lucius said in a soft voice. "There are things about the Malfoys that you must know, and there are still things about Professor Snape that you must learn. Albus left us a long list to tell you after his death, and we have hardly begun to tick off items. I'm going to explain why I am a spy."

Harry swallowed, "I'd like to hear that."

Lucius nodded, "I am fortunate enough to have an heir, my son Draco. But I am not fortunate enough to have a daughter." Harry looked confused, as would most, and Lucius continued, "I had a daughter, she was not quite four years older than Draco. Violet Malfoy. She was my first daughter, and she was murdered by Voldemort when she was very young, long before Draco was even born. The date of her murder was the first of November," he gave a wry smile to Harry, "That time of the year seems to be terrible for Voldemort."

Harry only nodded.

"Now, Potter," said Snape from across the room, "I'm sure that you've been dying to know why I've switched sides. However, we could not be so fortunate," he smirked and continued, "As Mya told you during the school term, my mother was Eileen Prince, and she married my father, Tobias Snape. I believe it was the Dark Lord who said there are a striking number of similarities between us," Snape walked slowly towards the gap between the sofas, "You see I murdered my own father, pity that was, almost broke my mother's heart, if she had one left after my father beat it out of her,"

Snape stopped walking, he paused in his tale and looked around the room, "And then, Voldemort decided to pay a visit to my dear mother. She welcomed him into the house, offered him a cuppa, he looked at her, took out his wand and killed her. Right then and there in the front hall. He killed my mother right in front of me," Snape turned to Harry with a malicious look on his face, "You only remember your parents' deaths when you are too close to a dementor, but I have to live with that look on her face every single day of my life. I can't forget it; I was too old to not remember. There isn't a time that I don't think of her." He leaned over Harry, "Now do you know why I wanted that potions book? Now do you know why Mya kept saying that it belonged to a woman? Now do you understand?" Snape stood up and glared down at Harry, "No. You don't understand. You can't understand, that was your father's failing, too. He never understood Lily, and yet she would stand there and shout it at the top of her lungs, quite a bit like your friend Miss Granger. Yet you ignore her, just as he ignored her. You are no better and no worse than he was." Snape turned to walk away, but turned back and sneered at Harry, "And yes, you do strut." Snape walked away from them and out of the room, he cloak billowing behind him and whipping around the corner of the doorframe as he left.

The room was now silent. The shoutings of Draco and the silky tirade from Snape left the occupants not wanting to hear anything more. Harry and Ron sat there, on the sofa, in complete silence, neither wishing to arouse the anger of anyone else. Hermione was sitting there quietly; her hand in Draco's, neither saying a word. Harry could see that Ron was angry at this small act of intimacy, but he also knew the Ron was in no position to do anything about it.

Ron was glaring at Draco through lowered lids; he saw every movement of Draco's thumb on the back of Hermione's hand, caressing the skin. He saw how Hermione was content to let him touch her and it filled him with rage, she never let him do that to her. He remembered their quiet teasing banter in the kitchen and the joy in Hermione's eyes; she had never looked at him like that. His ears were heating up and turning red. It was only a matter of time before the red-head blew his top.

If there was anyone in the room that was amused, it was surprisingly Lucius Malfoy. He was hiding a grin at how Mya's friends were acting, rather like young children who had just received a good scolding than the young adults that Albus had lauded them to be. It was always so intriguing to beat someone down to the point of reckoning and then build them back up again. That is what had to happen to Harry Potter and Ronald Weasley if they were to be of any use to the Order and the destroying of the horcruxes. Albus had known that, he had also known that there was no one better for the job than Severus Snape and Lucius Malfoy.

Lucius grinned to himself; he would have to remember to praise Draco for that stellar performance. He could have hardly done better. Draco broke down everything that they had ever believed, tore it apart, ridiculed it and laid it bare before their eyes to see exactly what everyone else saw of them. It had been delightful to see the stubbornness fade from the eyes and then be replaced with recognition. The human mind is a beautiful and complicated thing; it's a terrible fact that people use so little of it.

Draco decided that he'd had enough of the silence, he stood up from the sofa, pulling Hermione with him. She groaned as her feet touched down on the floor, but did nothing else. They left the room together, hand in hand, and walked up the flight of stairs to the next floor where Draco kept a room.

Draco pushed open the door and led Hermione into the room. She smiled to him gently and let go of his hand. She walked over to his bed and just lay down on it in silence. Draco shut the door behind him, and then walked over to the bed and sat down on it near her hip. She looked up to him and said nothing. Draco studied her features and smiled. He pushed her across the bed, making room for him to lay there. She protested but slightly, and put up no major fight.

Once she was far enough over that he could lay down next to her, he did so, his head propped on his hand, and he looked down on her face.

Hermione smiled to him, "Well? I suppose that went rather well."

Draco let out a sigh, "Perhaps, if you like hearing your best mates yelled at by multiple people."

Hermione laughed softly, "They won't appreciate this now, but given time they will."

"I don't think I could ever appreciate someone chastising me over my treatment of you," said Draco gently.

"There is nothing to chastise."

"_Oh_, but indeed there is," said Draco half-seriously, "I do not kiss you as often as I should, and tease twice what is recommended." His free hand traced the outline of her face, "Have you told you lately how beautiful you are?"

"I don't recall the last time," said Hermione, "It's been a long time since we've had time to sit and be ourselves with each other." She pulled herself into a sitting position and scooted back so she could lean back against the pillows piled high on his bed. She patted the bed next to her and Draco was happy to oblige.

"I think that I'm glad we don't have to return for seventh year," Draco said.

Hermione looked sad at the prospect, "I think I would have rather enjoyed being head-girl."

Draco laughed heartily, "I don't doubt it," he scowled then, "But I can't imagine what smarty-pants Ravenclaw they'll make head-boy."

"There really isn't one fit to the task," said Hermione, "I don't know who they'll put in that position. With me and Ron gone, that's two less in the running, with you gone, that's another boy gone. It's all too difficult to decide, perhaps Blaise?"

"Perhaps," agreed Draco. He intertwined his fingers with her and brought her hand up to his mouth for a kiss.

Hermione arched an eyebrow at him, "And, what are you trying to do?"

Draco smirked at her, "I'm still a Slytherin at heart, regardless us not being at Hogwarts."

"_Hmm_," said Hermione, "And what does that mean for me?"

Draco looked her seriously in the eyes, "Hold on to your knickers if you plan on waiting."

Hermione blushed, "_Oh_," was all she managed to say.

"But," said Draco, a seductive look stealing across his face, and his eyes flashing, "If you'd prefer something else…I'm sure we can find a safe location for your knickers."

"_Oh_?" said Hermione, her eyebrow still raised, "Where would that be? Your trousers' back pocket?"

Draco shrugged, "I am what I am. Take me as is, or do your worse."

At that moment Draco had enough of wordplay and rolled so that he was straddling Hermione, she squeaked a bit in surprise but did nothing to prevent Draco from accosting her. He kissed her firmly and fully, it was heady and passionate and soon enough Hermione called it to a stop as Draco's hand had crawled all the way up her skirt and was resting in the most frustrating spot. But Draco knew that, and was willing to do nothing to allay her frustration.

"_Hmm_," said Hermione pulling out of the kiss, "That was lovely, thanks."

Draco looked at her funny, "You're thanking me for a kiss?"

"I have to switch it up sometimes. Now if you would be so kind as to move your hand." Hermione said, still flushed from their activities. Draco did something incredibly wicked with his hand that left Hermione gasping and a bright red color, "I meant to _remove_ it, not _that_!" she cried indignantly between gasps for air.

"Not what?" asked Draco with a smirk, he moved his hand again as before, "That?"

Hermione nodded, unable to speak.

He did something completely different, "Or what is that?"

Tears were coursing down Hermione's face now, tears of frustrations, "Please?" she said in a breathy whine.

"Please what?" said Draco calmly, as though they were talking about passing the marmalade.

"Please remove your hand," said Hermione, having regained enough of her sense to try and keep Draco on his toes, so to speak.

Draco frowned, "Remove my hand?" he decided that was not a plausible option, "I don't think so." He did something again that left Hermione fighting to breath. She couldn't move because of their positioning, but she wasn't sure that she wanted to anymore. In any case, she decided that Draco was exceptionally handsome and witty and that his lips were far too kissable to remain unattached from her own. She reached up, put her arms around his neck and pulled him down to her, kissing him fully on the mouth. Draco had to remove his hand so he didn't fall after she tugged him towards her.

The kiss was almost frantic, it had been months, since the summer holidays that they had really been able to see and know each other. It was only a matter of time before they were fully reacquainted. Unfortunately, a knock came from the door at the very instant.

Draco pulled away and cursed into the pillow that Hermione's head was laying on. The person knocked again and Draco called out to ask for them to wait just a few moments. Draco sat up and stood from the bed, Hermione was still laying there, more than a little flushed. Draco was sure that he wasn't much better. They straightened each other's clothes as quickly as possible; Hermione grabbed a book from the bookcase surrounding the fireplace and jumped into one of the large, cushy leather chairs. When Draco saw that she was as virginal looking as a nun in a convent, he opened the door and was surprised to see his father standing on the other side.

Lucius looked at his son and at Hermione and just laughed, "You think you can fool me?" He walked over to Draco and wiped some of Hermione's lip gloss from his cheek, "I didn't know this was in fashion," he said with a smirk. He sat on the chair in front of the fire next to Hermione and laughed once again, "Are you in the practice of reading a book upside-down and backwards?"

Hermione flushed, but nodded, "It makes the brain think harder, and a mind is a terrible thing to waste."

"Excellent, excellent," said Lucius through laughter, "I still wonder that you are a Gryffindor and not a Slytherin. But no matter." He turned somber and said, "I believe that Severus said he would be cooking supper tonight, so you both have the night off to do some more pleasant things," he smirked, "Like reading."

"Splendid," said Hermione sarcastically. She flipped the book the right way up, stuck her tongue out at Lucius and continued reading.

Lucius laughed, slapped his legs and stood up, he looked at his son who was smirking and just laughed harder, "You'll be happy together, no doubt!" and with that he walked over to the door, "_Oh_, and I believe Severus said supper should be ready in about an hour."

"An hour?" said Hermione with a puzzled look on her face.

"He likes to take his time and do it all the muggle way, he was muttering something about foolish wand waving and cooking when I left," Lucius said with a sigh. He then turned and left the room, making sure to close the door behind him.

Draco turned to look at Hermione with a predatory stare; he stalked over to her, circled her chair, and leaned over her shoulder to see what she was reading. After deciding that it was boring, he found that the backside of her neck was much more interesting.

Hermione closed her eyes when she felt his mouth close over the sensitive skin when her neck met her shoulder. He continued whatever magic he was working, but then stopped.

"Why'd you stop?" Hermione said with a trace of a whine in her voice.

"Unless you want the wonder twins to know what I was doing, I reckon stopping is a good idea," he whispered into her ear.

Hermione groaned, "I hate them sometimes."

"No, you don't," said Draco. He stood up and sat in the chair next to her, "You don't hate them, and you can't hate them. You've been through too much together to hate one another." He reached for the Quidditch magazine that was on the side table.

Hermione looked at him with a pained face, "I know, but sometimes I wish I could hate them."

"Why?" said Draco, almost carelessly, as he flipped through pages of the magazine.

"Because it would make this much easier."

"Well, we need Potter," he said, looking up from an article that was decorated by a scantily glad witch ("I get it for the articles, honestly!") "He's the only one that can destroy the horcruxes without killing himself."

"I know," Hermione sighed. "I suppose we ought to discuss that over supper tonight, eh?"

"Probably would be a good idea," said Draco, flipping a page to reveal another scantily clad witch ("It's a wonderful article about polishing your broomstick, Mya! Honestly, you just don't understand Quidditch!"), "It strikes me that for all that he's managed to do so far with little knowledge, this is something that can't be rushed into."

Hermione nodded. She closed the book and set it down on the table between the two chairs. "There is a lot that we have to do," she flashed a disgusted look at the magazine, "You know I hate it when you look through that rag."

"There always is, Mya," drawled Draco, "I suspect life is like that. And this isn't a rag, I get it for the articles."

Hermione shot him a withering glare, "Get up, we have to go down for supper."

"Has an hour passed already?"

"Yes."

Draco smirked, "Well, I was rather occupied if you hadn't noticed."

**:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:**

Once in the kitchen again, all six were seated around the table. Severus placed the supper on the table, glared at anyone who would dare to criticize it, and then sat down himself. Draco looked carefully at the stew that Snape had placed in front of him, and made a face as it bubbled up and belched.

"Draco," warned Snape, "It's not going to eat you. Fill your bowl, I want to eat."

"It belched," said Draco disgustedly.

"It's supposed to."

"It belched!"

"I heard it, Professor," said Ron. "It belched. Food is not supposed to belch."

"Take some damned stew and pass it on!" said Snape with a fierce look on his face.

Ron hurried to obey and filled his bowl to the brim, and passed the stew onto Harry. Harry looked at it carefully and then filled his bowl as well. The stew dish made its way slowly around the table, finally reaching Draco again. He looked at it disgustedly and ladled some into his bowl. Hermione filled hers up next, and then passed the dish onto Snape, who filled his bowl and then placed the dish in the middle of the table.

Draco was still looking skeptically at the bowl of stew in front of him. Ron, he noticed, had dug in feverishly, and seemed to be trying to eat before the stew belched again.

"Severus," said Lucius from the other end of the table, "I can assure you, that this is by far, the worst stew I have ever had."

"Thank you, Lucius," sneered Snape, "You know me, I aim to please."

"You mean you aim to kill," said Harry under his breath.

"Sorry, Potter," said Snape, almost carelessly, "I'm afraid that if you wish to insult me, it will have to be louder, I didn't quite catch was you said."

"I said, 'You mean that you aim to kill.'" Harry said slowly, enunciating each word.

Severus sneered, "If I'm going to kill someone, I'll do it correctly the first time, Potter. I kill because I am told to."

Draco looked down his nose at Harry, "You don't know the half of what went into getting Uncle Sev to kill Dumbledore. He almost didn't do it. You have no idea what went into that night to get everything to play out just so, so that no one was killed or seriously injured."

"No one was seriously injured!" said Ron incredulously, "My brother Bill is horribly disfigured for the rest of his life! Not seriously injured! He was attacked by a WEREWOLF!"

"Greyback wasn't supposed to be there," said Draco calmly, "And, for what it's worth, I'm sorry that Bill was so grievously injured."

"That does nothing to make him look better!" shouted Ron.

Draco flashed him a look of contempt, "Is that what you think is important? His looks?"

"Well, no," stuttered Ron.

"Good. Bill Weasley is an amazing man who's done a lot for the Order, more than you'll ever know! He's also done a lot for Mya and me. We are grateful to him, indebted to him, even. If you think that because of Greyback's attack that people will like him any less, then you aren't the great family that I thought you were."

Properly chastised, Ron sat there in silence, eating the belching stew. He finally looked up, after thinking over what Draco had said. He pushed the bowl to the side and said, "Bill helped you and Hermione?" in a small voice.

"More than you could ever know," said Hermione who was finishing off her stew.

"What did he do for you?"

Draco sighed, "We ran into a bit of trouble while we were on holiday in Egypt. Miss Know-it-all over here," he said pointing to Hermione, "wanted to have a look at ancient Egyptian magical practices and was reading the hieroglyphs on the tomb walls, unfortunately the mummies and zombies in the pyramids didn't think too much of the idea. He saved her."

"He saved you too!" said Hermione, "You were ready to take that stupid heart scarab and, if I remember correctly, you were being chased by one of those Egyptian guardian spells."

Draco turned to her, "That heart scarab was priceless!"

"Yes! To the mummy!"

"And to me! It would've been great in my collection!"

"_Um_, guys?" said Harry, "Is this really important?"

"No, Harry," Hermione sighed, "It's not. It's just an old argument." She brushed some hair out of her face and smiled, "Now, we need to go over the horcruxes, and where we're going to get information on them. Uncle Lucius has a large supply of books concerning the subject so I think we should begin in the Malfoy's library."

"Why do you have such a large number of books about horcruxes?" Harry asked suspiciously.

"I've known about these horcruxes for years," Lucius said, "I've been researching their destruction ever since we discovered they existed."

"Have you destroyed any of them?"

"I can't," said Lucius looking at Harry, "But you can."

"ME?"

"You. Don't you remember that diary?"

"The one that almost _killed_ my sister?" said Ron.

"Yes," Lucius grinned, "That had once been a horcrux. The first one that Voldemort ever made, if I'm not mistaken. You are the only one who can destroy them."

"Why me?"

"Your wand," said Lucius simply.

"My wand?"

"Your wand."

"MY wand?"

"Yes!" cried Draco, "For Merlin's sake, Potter! Your wand! The one that's in your pocket. That wand! The wand you bought from Ollivander's with Hagrid. That wand!"

"My wand?"

"Harry!" said Hermione, "Just shut it and listen!"

Lucius leaned forward, and pointed at Harry, "Your wand and Voldemort's wand are brother wands. You both possess one of Fawkes' feathers, and he only gave two." He paused a moment, thinking, and then continued, "Do you know why it is that the wand chooses the wizard?"

Harry shook his head, looking curiously at his holly and phoenix feather wand which he had pulled from his trouser pocket.

"The wand chooses the wizard so that the core elements in the wand match perfectly with the wizard's magic. Voldemort's wand is thirteen and a half inches long. It is made from yew and one of Fawkes' feathers. The other of which resides in your wand. What does yew signify in wand making, Mya?"

Hermione jumped at her name but answered, "The yew tree is a symbol of death and rebirth. But the wood is poisonous to humans. That is why it is better known as the death tree."

Lucius waved his hand, "Please, continue. Tell us all of it."

Hermione nodded, "Well, the yew tree itself can live for thousands of years. Some claim there are yew trees that are over 9,000 years old. But it is difficult to tell because they regenerate. The yew branches grow into the ground, so when the central trunk dies the tree itself lives on in the branches, which then grow into trees. That's why the yew tree is also a symbol of transformation, great age, and reincarnation."

Hermione stopped speaking, waiting to see if that was enough.

"Excellently described, Mya," said Lucius with a smile. "Now, Mr. Potter, could you be so kind as to tell us what your wand is?"

Harry nodded, "Eleven inches. Holly and phoenix feather, one of Fawkes' I've been told."

Lucius nodded, "Now, Mya, what is the holly symbolic of?"

"Holly?" Hermione said, pausing to think, "Holly is a masculine sort of wood. It is said that to carry a bit of holly on you is good luck—"

"—Wands, Mya," said Lucius in a bored tone.

"_Oh_, right," she blushed, "Holly wands are said to attract protection, healing, peace, goodwill, luck and anything having to do with the element of fire, such as the zodiac symbol Leo. Holly people are supposed to be balanced in a just fight, honest and hardworking, and tolerant of situations. Additionally, they tend to be magically advanced but clueless. They can be a bit showy and seek attention."

"Sounds like Potter to me," said Snape's wry voice, breaking into the discussion.

"Severus," said Lucius in a warning tone. He turned back to Harry, "Wands chose the wizard based on that wizard's personality and magical ability. The wood is symbolic of the person; the core is symbolic of the magic. But it is especially important that the wood and the core work in harmony."

Harry nodded, "Why is this important?"

"It is important because you must understand how you and Voldemort are linked. You must understand this so that you know that you can destroy the horcruxes."

"Harry," said Hermione, "It's like this house. I could see it here because I had no worries about not seeing it. You and Ron, on the other hand, worried that Professor Dumbledore's death would make the house unreachable, when you arrived here you found your worst fears confirmed. Magic is often mind over matter, the mind has to be stronger than the matter, or you'll never succeed. Did you never wonder why first year we started with matches into needles? It's an easy transfiguration. Hogwarts' professors train the mind to use the magic we are born with, to increase our capacity to force our mind onto something. It is as much about strengthening our magical abilities as expanding our minds."

Harry looked curiously at Hermione, "Magic is forcing our minds over something?

"Magic is not natural, Potter," said Draco, "It is out of sync with nature. We take the physics that muggles rely on and turn it on its head, physics and engineering and all those muggle sciences mean nothing in the world of magic. Where magic exists, the mind is the key; not what nature, maths and numbers say." Draco leaned over the table, "Magic is an anomaly in the world, and wizards know it. _Oh_, they'll never admit it; but they know it."

"What do you mean?" said Ron.

"Most know it, anyhow," sneered Draco.

"Enough, Draco," said his father, "Mr. Potter, we'll be going to Malfoy Manor for a week or so to do some research—"

Ron groaned.

"—This will take a lot of research, Mr. Weasley," said Lucius, "I'm sorry if that's not inviting to you. But that's how things are. I have been examining the diary, searching for magical traces that could indicate if something is a horcrux. It's slow going, I have only had this past year to work on it. You will be researching the Founders' possessions that have survived to this day. We need to know everything that they owned which could possibly be a horcrux."

"Well," said Ron hesitatingly, "My brother's wedding is tomorrow. Will we be able to leave for that? I promised Bill I'd be there."

"Yes, you'll be able to leave in the morning, and then return that night," said Lucius, "Promises are foundations of society, and if promises aren't kept then societies begin to fall apart."

"Yes, sir," said Ron. He then fell into silence.

The clock in the hallway sang the hour, it still hadn't been returned from when Mrs. Weasley charmed it to see her favorite Celestina Warbeck song. So,

_Oh, come stir my cauldron_

_And if you do it right_

_I'll boil up some hot strong love_

_To keep you warm tonight_

came trilling from the hallway. Draco gritted his teeth and glared at Ron, "Remind me to thank you mother for that charming melody. Whatever she did, I can't remove the charm."

"For once, Malfoy, I agree with you. Ron, as much as I love your mum, her taste is music is awful."

Ron flushed, "As though your mum listens to anything better, Malfoy!"

"She does! Anything _but_ Celestina Warbeck!" With that Draco stood up from his chair and stalked out of the room.

"No offense, Ron," said Hermione, "but that song is horrible." She too stood up and left.

Ron looked after her, "Is it really that bad?"

"For Merlin's sake, Weasley! YES! You have no idea what it's like to listen to that damn clock for days on end," spat Snape

"I find that I've grown rather attached to it," said Lucius, "Of course, I've been stuck here for over a year. I believe I went mad months ago."

"Well, at least someone likes it," said Ron.

"_Oh_," said Lucius, "I didn't say I like it, just that I've grown attached to it. Rather like an annoying cousin you'd only see during the holidays."

Ron groaned, "I'll owl her to ask how to remove the charm."

"Don't bother," said Snape, "We're leaving first thing in the morning." He stood up and walked out of the room, robes billowing.

Lucius watched as he left, he sighed and stood up as well, "Well, boys, I suggest you get to bed. We'll be up early. I hope you don't mind side-along-apparation, we can't floo to Malfoy Manor, nor can we take the Knight Bus. Good night," and with that he walked out of the room.

Harry and Ron exchanged glances. Then they looked at the table and saw that all the dishes had been left there. Ron groaned.

"I'll bring the dishes to the sink, you wash?" said Harry.

"Fine."

Both stood up and cleaned up the remainder of supper. When they finished they left the room and headed up to bed, knowing the next day was going to be busy, unhappy, and most definitely not likeable.

**Please _Read_ and _Review_!**

Well? Hope you all liked it, I've been working hard on this fic. We're a little less than halfway through, so please keep on reading.

I hope that small scene helps with the HG/DM lovers, I'm not very inclined to write huge scenes of passion and whatnot (I'm sure you know what I mean), that's not really my style. If that's what you're looking for, sorry. It won't show up in this fic.

KaytiSarai


	10. Malfoy Manor and a Weasley Wedding

**Title:** The Secrets of Hermione Granger

**Chapter:** (10-?)  
**Disclaimer:** I am not J.K. Rowling, nor do I ever intend to be.  
**Author's Note:** Nothing of great importance to say today…Oh! I highly recommend anything of Jane Austen's. I've just finished _Pride and Prejudice_ and am working my way through _Sense and Sensibility_. She's a great writer, it might be a little difficult to get accustomed to her style, she did write almost two centuries ago, so it's different that author's today. But _Pride and Prejudice_ is almost Dramione-like…almost. (I'm sure Miss Austen is rolling in her grave now…lovely.)

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Chapter 10**  
_Malfoy Manor and a Weasley Wedding  
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The next morning dawned finding almost all the occupants of the house still sleeping. The only one who was awake was Severus Snape. He had been in the kitchen since before dawn, just sitting there at the table, waiting for the _Prophet_, waiting for everyone else to wake up. Severus Snape liked to greet the dawn. He liked to watch the rays of light slowly brighten the horizon, causing the dew to sparkle on the grass, listen to the birds sing joyously at the occasion. Surprisingly, he likes these sorts of beautiful things. But don't tell anyone, you might just find yourself victim to the Draught of the Sleeping Death, or perhaps actual poison. Beauty Snape admires, spreading the fact that he does, no.

The first person to grace the kitchen was none other than Hermione. She walked blearily into the kitchen and smiled seeing Snape there. He pointed curtly to the counter where a tea pot was sitting and she thanked him politely. After pouring herself her morning cuppa, she sat down at the table across from him.

"Morning," he said.

"Good morning," said Hermione cheerily.

"Did you and Draco sleep well?"

"I did," said Hermione, "You'll have to ask Draco when he comes down."

"You didn't sleep together last night?" said Snape, actually curious.

"No," said Hermione puzzled, "Why would we have?"

"It's Draco," he answered simply.

"Very good, Uncle Severus," said a curt voice from the doorway, "I am Draco. I'm glad that you've finally learned who your godson is. I'll be sure to send you a fruit basket."

"Your sarcasm isn't appreciated this early in the morning, Draco," said Snape with a sneer.

"Of course it is," Draco answered pouring himself some tea from the pot, "Sarcasm is perfect at any time of the day."

"Of course it is, Draco," said Snape, rolling his eyes, "So is having brandy before breakfast, and sweets before supper."

"Exactly," said Draco with a broad grin. He sat down at the table and looked around, "So? What's for breakfast?"

"Nothing," said Lucius as he walked in, "I thought it would be nice to dine with your mother for a change. I haven't seen her in a long time. She has the elves preparing a large feast for us."

"Excellent," said Hermione, licking her lips, "I love your elves cooking!"

Harry and Ron walked in at that exact moment. Ron blinked at what Hermione just said, and then gave her a strange look, "Since when do you approve of house-elves, Mya?"

"Mya?" said Hermione, glancing at him.

"Well, that's what he calls you!" Ron defended, pointing at Draco.

"Well, yes, certainly, of course he does!" said Hermione, struggling to find the proper words, "The thing is…well, you see.—"

"—what _Mya_ is trying to say," interrupted Draco with a drawl, "is don't call her that. Only I can call her that."

"But your father called her Mya!" protested Ron.

"Yes, but my father also helped raise her."

"Why can't I call her Mya? If you can do it, then I think I should be able to also!"

"Ron," said Hermione in a pained voice, "I think it'd be better if you called me Hermione. Mya is…personal."

"Personal?" Ron walked closer, "Aren't we close enough to call you Mya? Haven't we been best mates since eleven?"

"Well, yes," said Hermione hesitantly, "But…it's different! Draco and I have known each other since—well—forever! It's like a family nickname."

"I'm not good enough to be a part of your family?" said Ron, growing red again.

"Weasley, just put a stopper in it," drawled Draco, "This really isn't that important. You call her Hermione, I'll call her Mya. Good? Grand. Let's get on with our lives, shall we?"

"No! It's not alright!" burst out Ron. "I have the right to call her Mya, just as much as you do! You may have known her longer, but we've been best mates now for years."

"Weasley, there's a different level to our 'friendship,' let's call it, than your level of friendship."

"How so?"

Hermione groaned and covered her face with her hands.

Draco smirked, "Well, for instance, Weasley, did you know that Mya is incredibly ticklish right—"

"—Draco! I swear that if you keep talking, our honeymoon will be so boring you'll beg to be in Professor Binns' class."

Draco shut it.

Ron looked furiously at Draco, "You are such a ferret, ferret!"

"Really original there," he drawled in response, "I think you might almost get an award for that one."

Ron fumed, his face now completely red. He stalked over to the kitchen counter where Lucius was standing with Harry. Both were sipping from tea cups, neither was speaking to the other.

Finally, Lucius spoke up, "Well, now that we've all had our tea. I suggest that we Apparate to Malfoy Manor. Mya, can you side-along with Mr. Potter? Draco, please bring Mr. Weasley."

"Yes, Uncle Lucius," said Hermione, standing up from the table. She set her cup in the sink and smiled to Harry, "I know you've done this with Professor Dumbledore before, so just hold on."

"Hang on a moment!" said Harry, "Why can't I Apparate there myself?"

"There are anti-Apparition wards all over the manor," said Lucius.

"Oh," said Harry. He turned to Hermione, "Why can you Apparate there then?"

"Well," said Hermione, "Remember how you can't Apparate to Howarts? Well, it's kind of like that, but it's been fine-tuned so that certain people can Apparate there. I'm allowed, so are Draco and Uncle Severus. Ready?" she said, looking at Harry.

"Yes," he gripped her arm—hard.

Draco noticed and frowned, "Ease up, Potter. I don't want my betrothed roughed up by you anymore."

Harry sneered, but loosened his grip.

Hermione sighed and rolled her eyes, "See you in a moment, Draco." She waved her wand, span slightly and pulled Harry with her through a hole no larger than a pin's head. Harry felt all his bones and organs being squeezed by some incredible pressure. It eventually let up and when Harry opened his eyes, he saw that he was in a light and airy entranceway. Not at all how he pictured Malfoy Manor.

"_Um_? Hermione?"

"Yes?" she said absently.

"Where are we?"

"Malfoy Manor.

Harry looked around, "Are you sure?"

"What do you mean? Of course I'm sure."

"Well," he said, "I just pictured it to be a little bit more…_um_…you know?"

Hermione turned to look at him, her hands on her hips, "No, Harry, I'm afraid I don't know at all what you were expecting."

"I just thought it would be more…you know?" he said, waving his arms around trying to show what he meant, "Not like this."

"Then how did you think it would look?"

"I just thought it would be—"

"—Dark? Depressing? With torture devices hanging from the ceilings? Skeletons lining the walls? Shrieks of tortures drifting up from below?" supplied a sarcastic, drawling voice.

Harry turned around and saw Draco standing there with Ron.

"Well?" said Draco, "This must be a disappointment indeed."

"That's not what I expected at all!" said Harry in a rush.

Draco cocked an eyebrow, "Really?" he looked around, "And that was the impression I try to send of my home. I guess I'll have to work on my description," he smirked, "But, then again, you could be lying to me."

"Lie?" said Harry, "Why would I lie?"

"I don't know," said Draco, looking truly puzzled, "To be sure, I never understood why people lie."

"Why?" asked Ron.

Draco turned and showed him a feral sort of grin, "Because the truth is so much nastier." He laughed and then turned to see his mother standing there on the steps, her arms crossed and a frown on her face. He cleared his throat, "Hello, mum."

"Draco! What is this that you're talking about with our guests? Torture? Skeletons lining the walls?" Mrs. Malfoy shook her head, "Don't let Dobby hear that! He'll be all in a fright."

"Dobby?" said Harry.

"My house-elf," said Draco.

"But…I thought he worked for Professor Dumbledore."

"He does. But he also works for me," said Mrs. Malfoy. "You boys manage to get yourselves into all sorts of trouble. I needed to keep my eyes on you there at Hogwarts," she smiled warmly at them, "Now, how about some breakfast? The house-elves should be setting the table right now, by the time we get to the dinning room it should all be prepared."

"Excellent!" said Hermione, rubbing her hands together eagerly. "I can't wait to have some of your breakfast. Your elves make the most delicious eggs benedict."

"Thanks, Mya," said Mrs. Malfoy, with a smile. "Well then, let's have some breakfast!"

She led them down a hallway off the foyer and into the dinning room. It was small and intimate, seating only about ten or so around the rectangular table. This room was painted a cheery sort-of yellow color, with white wainscoting below the chair rail. The table was a dark mahogany with chairs to match, the seats covered by ivory cushions.

Once again, Harry and Ron's mouths dropped. Draco saw and snickered to himself.

"Draco!" said Mrs. Malfoy, "It isn't polite to laugh at your schoolmates."

"Yes, mum," said Draco, rolling his eyes. He sat down in one of the chairs near the head of the table. Hermione sat next to him and smiled.

"_Ah_!" said Lucius, as he sat in the chair at the head of the table, "It is so nice to be back here! I don't know how I would've survived if the elves hadn't been sending me food."

"Of course, dear," said Mrs. Malfoy with a smile. She turned to the two boys, "Well, you can sit wherever you'd like. We aren't terribly formal."

Harry smiled weakly at her, "Thank you, Mrs. Malfoy." He sat in the chair nearest to him, and Ron plopped down next to him.

"Good choice," said Snape with a sneer, "At least by sitting there we won't have to smell you!" Snape sat down in one of the remaining open chairs next to Narcissa.

The door to the small dinning room opened. Harry and Ron turned around quickly, expecting it to be Death Eaters but were surprised when a woman entered the room. She had smooth, curly black hair, brown eyes, and a bright smile on her face. She entered the room; her eyes roved over everyone, but when they landed on Hermione she rushed forward, plucked her out of the chair and into a fierce hug.

"Mya, my dear, Mya," she said and kissed her cheeks. "_Ah_, how was the Dursleys? Were they absolutely awful?" she questioned, and then a twinkle entered her eyes, "I do hope you gave them some trouble for me."

"Mum!" exclaimed Hermione, trying to extricate herself from her mother's grip. "No, I didn't give them too much trouble. I was happy enough to leave them be, they were shocked enough as it was."

The woman, apparently Hermione's mother, pouted, "Well, I suppose it's for the best. You wouldn't want a charge of using magic against muggles."

"No, I don't, mum," said Hermione, brushing her hair from her face.

The woman looked around the room again and spotted Harry and Ron. She smiled at them, "Now, these two!" she put her hands on her hips, "they have got you into more trouble than we managed to!"

Harry and Ron looked uneasily at her.

"This is my mother," said Hermione, gesturing to the woman standing next to her. "This is Harry, and this is Ron."

"I know that!" she said, waving her hand at her daughter. "Now, you two, you owe me a hug. From both of you. I have wanted to meet you ever since Mya came home that first summer full of stories of trolls and Voldemort," she looked severely at them, "I don't like at the trouble you've brought to my daughter. After all we did to keep her safe."

"Mrs. Granger—"

"No, no," she interrupted, "The Grangers are the groundskeepers. My name is Rassia Kowal. I am Mya's mother."

Harry flushed, "Mrs.—Kowal, I didn't want to bring trouble to her," his face looked pained, "trouble just has a habit of finding me."

Mrs. Kowal's face softened, "_Oh_, dear," she walked closer and placed her hand on his cheek, "Everyone in this room has the same ailment. Why, we wouldn't be here if none of us attracted trouble." She grinned suddenly, "I just think that you have the worst of it."

"Yes, Mrs. Kowal," said Harry agreeing.

"Now then," she said looking around the table, "What's for breakfast?"

Lucius laughed from the end of the table, "I should've known you came over for something else. Are the Kowal elves not up to your standards lately?" he teased.

"No, of course not," she said sitting down next to Hermione, "I just wanted to eat breakfast with my daughter. I never get to see her anymore." She picked up the napkin and placed it on her lap, "Plus, the elves are all on holiday."

"Where are they now, mum?" asked Hermione.

"I believe I saw them in the attic dusting off the old portraits."

"That's holiday?" said Ron, no longer able to keep quiet.

"What did you expect?" said Draco, "That they would take one of those muggle aeroplanes to Malta and sun on the beach? I think not."

"But dusting?" said Ron faintly.

Hermione shrugged, "It's what they like to do."

Then the food appeared on the table. There were stacks of toast, bowls of scrambled eggs, and of course, Hermione's eggs benedict.

"Great," said Draco reaching for the stack of toast, "I was starving."

The group continued to eat breakfast with some quiet conversation. Mrs. Kowal was asking Hermione all about the previous year at Hogwarts, Draco was telling his mum all about hiding at the Black House, and Mr. Malfoy and Snape were talking about different sorts of potions. Harry and Ron ate in silence, not speaking to each other, but nibbling on the excellent food that had come out of the kitchen.

"Ron," said Mrs. Kowal suddenly, "I hear that your brother is getting married soon? When is the wedding? I have to send the bride congratulations."

"_Oh_, I don't think that will be necessary," said Ron blushing.

"Nonsense, Fleur is a good friend of the family. Did you know that Fleur and Bill meet when we were on holiday in Egypt together?"

"They did?"

"_Oh_, yes!" said Mrs. Kowal eagerly, "Mya and Draco, being the curious creatures they are, decided that one of the tombs was perfect for academic study," Mrs. Kowal leaned forward in her chair, "Mya was busily translating some of the hieroglyphs, and Draco was sneaking off with the heart scarab of the mummy," she grinned, "I was sitting there on the floor of the tomb with Mya and Fleur. The wall was fascinating. It was the story of the mummy's life! Can you believe it?"

"Mum!"

"Right! Anyhow, Draco comes running around the corner, he's being chased by these hideous…what do you suppose they're called?"

Hermione paused, "I'm not sure exactly. Rock creatures of some sort."

"Yes, well, in any case. He's being chased by these monstrous rock creatures all over the tomb, screaming at them to leave him alone. Then out of nowhere comes your brother! He looked at the scene for a moment, _accioed_ the scarab and then rushed it back to the mummy. He muttered some spell and the rock creatures walked away!" She looked to the two boys, "Isn't that fascinating?"

"_Er_," said Harry, "Yes, of course."

Ron was a bright red color, from the base of his neck all the way to his hairline. He seemed to be trying to prevent himself from laughing as odd snorting sounds and squeals kept coming from him.

"Shut up, Weasley," said Draco, "It's not like you wouldn't have done the same."

"Fleur and Bill met there, in that tomb," said Mrs. Kowal over Draco, "It was quite romantic, both were rather struck." She smiled dreamily and began to eat her breakfast.

Everyone continued to eat, talking to those nearest themselves. Breakfast was almost over and the elves had cleared away most of the dishes and the remaining food. Draco and Hermione had wandered off to do who knows what, they claimed they went to the library to begin research, but the adults in the room had just looked after the pair with knowing glances and after the door had shut, Lucius began to laugh loudly. By this point, Harry and Ron were rather uncomfortable with the entire situation and Harry was getting ready to try and find the library when Ron spoke up.

"_Erm_," said Ron, "Tomorrow is Bill's wedding. How can we get to the Burrow with the Apparition wards?"

"_Oh_, yes!" said Mrs. Malfoy. "I'd almost completely forgot. I'll make sure to change the wards so that you are allowed to Apparate to and from Malfoy Manor. It shan't take but a moment. I'll take care of it after breakfast."

"Thank you," said Ron mumbling.

The rest of the day was carried out in tedium. Harry and Ron eventually found the library where, to their surprise, Draco and Hermione were sitting at a large desk, almost hidden behind stacks of books and piles of parchment. Each piece of parchment held lists of little-known facts about the Founders, and there were lists of Ravenclaw's possessions which were scrawled on in two hands. The first was Hermione's small, neat script; and the other was Draco's larger, harder script.

Hermione mutely pointed to a pile of books, silently ordering the pair to begin looking through them for information about Rowena Ravenclaw. Both Harry and Ron groaned, but under a glare from both Hermione and Draco, they sat down and began to look through the volumes. They only took breaks for lunch and supper, finally Hermione let them all go to bed late that night, and long after the mantle clock had chimed the hour as midnight.

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The following morning, Harry, Ron, and Hermione rose early to be off to the Burrow for Bill and Fleur's wedding. Draco stayed at the Manor with promises to keep researching, and Lucius said he was off to take care of some business that he'd prefer no one to know about. Mrs. Malfoy and Mrs. Kowal were heading to do a day of shopping on the Champs Elysees in Paris, and had left before everyone else had even finished breakfast.

"Ready?" asked Hermione when they had finished breakfast.

"Sure," said Ron, almost eagerly. "Do we Apparate from here?"

Hermione looked appalled at him, "No! Merlin's beard, no!"

"Well, where do we go from?" asked Ron puzzled.

"The foyer! Honestly, Apparating out of the breakfast room. It's tantamount to just leaving through the window!" she stomped off in the direction of the foyer, Harry and Ron trailing behind her but they were stopped by a curt voice.

"You'd better keep an eye on her," said Draco from his seat at the table.

"Look, Malfoy," said Harry, "I don't know who you think you are, but Ron and I take care of Hermione. We've protected her since first year, we protect each other. We keep an eye out for each other."

"Yeah, Ferret!" said Ron, "We want her safer than you could ever want her! We're her best mates!"

"You have a crummy way of showing it," he said crossing his arms. He glowered at them, "And I can't imagine you wanting her safer than me. If you've forgot, she and I are supposed to marry, I'd really like my wife intact, if you please."

"We've always kept her safe!" said Ron, hands fisted at his side.

"I think I'd like you to prove that," said Draco angrily, "First year you locked her into the toilets with a troll. Second year she was petrified by the basilisk. Third year she was almost attacked by a werewolf and an escaped convict. Fourth year she ended up at the dance with that Bulgarian. Fifth year you dragged her off to the Department of Mysteries and she was cursed, and _almost died_! Sixth year you ran off with Dumbledore, leaving Mya and other students monitoring for Death Eaters," his face was certainly angry now, his eyes were blazing at both boys, "You've never managed to keep her safe, and while she can't hate you, I can and I do."

"Malfoy!" said Harry, now his eyes glowering, "You brought those Death Eaters into the castle. If you were so concerned about her safety you shouldn't have brought them there."

"They would not have attacked her."

"How do you know?" spat back Ron.

"Because they were under strict orders from the Dark Lord and from me."

"And they would have listened to you?" said Harry skeptically.

"Of course they would have!" said Draco affronted, "What do you take me for?"

"Well—"

"—If you finish that sentence, Weasley, you'll find your head where your arse used to be."

"RON! HARRY!" called Hermione from the foyer, "HURRY UP!"

Draco smirked, "Wouldn't want to be late for dear Bilius' wedding," he waved and then strode out of the dinning room ahead of them.

When Draco entered the foyer, he saw Hermione standing there, her arms crossed and with an annoyed expression on her face. He walked over to her, captured her in a hug, and kissed her rather thoroughly. He felt her knees buckle and she moaned into his mouth. He tightened his grip on her and then pulled away. He smirked when he saw the dreamy expression on her face.

"What was that for?" said Hermione quietly, still slightly lost.

"Just for standing there," said Draco.

Hermione quirked an eyebrow, "You never kiss me for that."

Draco sighed, "That and to piss off the wonder twins."

"You are a prat, you know that!"

"It's what I do best, dear," he said smirking. He let go of her and turned to the entrance of the hallway, where Harry and Ron were standing, both their mouths were hanging, eyes popping from their sockets.

"_Argh!_ Harry! My eyes are burning!" said Ron suddenly. He shut his eyes and begun to rub them vigorously with his fists, "Make it go away!"

"I can't!" said Harry.

"Let's go!" said Hermione, pulling away from Draco's hand that was placed lightly on her lower back. "We promised your mum we'd be there at ten o'clock, it's almost half past!"

"Hermione," said Ron in a begging sort of tone, "please tell me I didn't see what I think I just saw."

Hermione looked at him confused, "What?"

"Never mind," said Harry quickly, "let's just Apparate to the Burrow." Harry took out his wand, a sort of grim determination came over his face, he raised his wand, span determinedly in a circle and vanishing with a faint pop.

Ron looked at Hermione and Draco with disgust and span in an awkward circle, disappearing with a loud crack which caused both Hermione and Draco to wince and cover their ears.

"Merlin," said Draco weakly, "You'd think he'd be able to do that quieter!"

"He almost failed the apparition test because it was so loud. The examiner almost went deaf," Hermione looked up at him, "Believe it or not, that was quiet for Ron."

"That was quiet?" said Draco astonished, "I think that the deaf elves in the cellar heard him."

"Most likely," admitted Hermione, "Now, give me a kiss before I leave."

"Nah," said Draco with a smirk, pushing his hands into his trouser pockets, "I think that other kiss was enough for today."

"Yes, you would, wouldn't you?" said Hermione with a smirk, "_Oh_, well. I'm sure that Ron'll kiss me."

"_Oh,_ no he won't," said Draco. He span Hermione around roughly, wrapped his arms around her waist and pressed her body tightly into his, "He kisses you, I'll kiss Pansy," he leaned in and kissed her harshly, his teeth clacked against hers, and then he pulled back and the kiss became more gentle and passionate.

"Draco," said Hermione faintly, managing to pull away from his insistent lips.

"What," he said between kisses on her throat.

"I have to go."

"No, I really don't think you do."

"I must."

"No."

"Please, I'll be back later."

Draco growled and bit into her skin, "You don't have to leave."

"But, I really do. I promised Mrs. Weasley."

"Fine," said Draco, suddenly letting go of her. "Go to that Weasley wedding," he backed away and sneered at her, "Be sure to _scourgify_ yourself before you return, you wouldn't want to bring back any diseases from that lot." He stalked off out of the foyer, leaving Hermione staring after him in shock.

"Draco!" she called after him.

"Just leave, _Hermione_," he called over his shoulder, "I'll be here when _Mya_ comes back."

"Draco! Stop walking away from me!" she cried, running after him.

"Just leave," said Draco angrily, finally turning around and looking at her. "You wouldn't want to be late to the Weasley wonder love fest."

"Why are you acting like this?" said Hermione, hands on hips.

Draco glowered at her, "If you don't Apparate there right now, I'll Apparate you there myself. Leave me alone." He stalked away and slammed the library door shut. Hermione heard him angrily cast a _Colloportus_ at the door and knew it was useless to try and follow him.

She sadly stared at the door and then turned around and walked back to the foyer. With a neat little spin, focusing on destination with determination and deliberation, she disappeared from the foyer with a quiet pop.

When she opened her eyes she found herself staring at the front door to the Burrow. She knocked tentatively, but when the door was opened, noise spilled out in the front garden. A pair of hands fastened themselves on her upper arms and pulled her into the noise and commotion.

"Hermione!" said Ginny with a hug, "What took you so long? Ron and Harry were here ages ago!"

"I had a little trouble just before Apparition is all, nothing to worry about."

"Grand," said Ginny with a grin. She grabbed her hand and pulled her through the crowd, following some tortuous route that Hermione could hardly discern. Finally, Ginny led her up the stairs that wound through the center of the Burrow and into her room. Hermione sat down on Ginny's bed as Ginny shut the door behind her. Once the door was closed Ginny turned to Hermione and said, "Fleur is driving me mad! I had to get away from her."

"What's she doing now?"

"Well, firstly, she's surrounded by all her French veela cousins and they're screaming to each other in French and I can't understand a word of what they're saying. Then she's yelling at me for flowers and water and _eau de parfum_," said Ginny with a sneer, imitating Fleur's mincing walk across the floor of her room. She turned back to Hermione, "Where iz my parfum? Zhinny! Have you seen my parfum?" she said in a horrible French accent. "It's horrible! She never leaves me alone and is always talking about 'ow wonderful Beel iz." Ginny flopped back onto her bed next to Hermione and groaned.

Hermione giggled into her hand, "That's not a very nice thing to say about your future sister-in-law."

Ginny rolled her eyes, "_Oh_, Hermione! If only you had siblings, then you could understand," she rolled over onto her stomach and looked up to Hermione, "She has been horrible ever since she found out that mum and I don't want her part of the family."

"Well, can you blame her?" said Hermione, "I would be incredibly angry if I found out that my fiancé's family did not want me."

Ginny sighed, "Hermione, sometimes I think you think too much."

"Nonsense," said Hermione standing up and smoothing down her skirt and shirt, "Now, there are guests downstairs and I'm sure Fleur could use our help."

"Fine," said Ginny. She slowly got off her bed, "Let's go tend to Princess Phlegm!"

"Led the way!"

Ginny led Hermione to the room were Fleur was preparing for the ceremony. Hours passed and finally Fleur and her bridesmaids were prepared for the wedding. All their hair and makeup had been charmed; their dresses were clean and stain-free, wrinkle-free, and very pretty.

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The sun was setting over the Burrow, illuminating the arbor where Fleur and Bill were to be married from behind, and leaving the bride and her groom in complete shadow. Fleur had timed the ceremony down to the minute so that when the vows were finally spoken; the last of the sun's rays would strike crystals she had brought over from France and illuminate the couple in a rainbow of colors.

Hermione was sitting in the first row of seats next to Harry; Ron had been forcibly dressed in dress robes and was to lead one of Fleur's blonde cousins before her. Charlie was acting as Bill's Best Man, and Ginny was a part of the bridal party. Bill was standing under the arbor looking apprehensive, his face was still heavily scared, as Madame Pomfrey had feared, he would never fully heal. Werewolf scars never did heal. But Fleur didn't care, and as she had said, she is good enough looking for the both of them, I theenk.

Fleur walked down the aisle, preceded by her French cousins. Each blonde head was accompanied by a red head, and in Ginny's case, Fleur had managed to find a male cousin to walk with her soon to be sister-in-law. They processed in an orderly fashion, following the time constraints set by Fleur, and lined up accordingly under the arbor, leaving the center space before the cleric open for Fleur.

When Fleur appeared, she was a vision in white. Her hair had been carefully brushed and set up into clips; a veil was gently following her, flowing from where it was attached to the coronet that had been woven into her hair, down to the floor. A train extended a short distance behind her, and she held a small arm bouquet of calla lilies. She was unaccompanied and there was a gentle, demure smile on her face, and a flush about her cheeks. She was gorgeous.

The ceremony itself was rather nondescript. The cleric performed, the bride was blushing, and the groom was handsome (if you squinted just right). The ring boy was perfectly on time, actually with the rings. And at the appointed time, the sun reached the perfect angle to catch the crystals that Fleur had placed around the arbor, illuminating both herself and Bill, bathing them in the rainbow light, causing her white dress to change colors, and those assembled to _ohh_ and _ahh_ as had been Fleur's intent. The cleric said the line, "I now pronounce you husband and wife, you may now kiss the bride!" and Bill was happy to oblige. The happy couple kissed, Fred and one of Fleur's cousins placed a broom across the aisle which Bill and Fleur hopped over with laughter and giggles. Then they walked down the aisle to the cheers of all assembled.

The Weasleys held the reception out in the garden on the other side of the Burrow. It had been set up with tables that had been borrowed and then transfigured all to match. Fleur had covered all the tables with white linen and had calla lily centerpieces to match her bouquet. After all had finally sat down, the food appeared at all the places and Fred began tapping his glass with his spoon. Soon others joined in and the whole of the garden rang with the sound.

Fleur blushed prettily and Bill smiled. He looked down at her gently, and then they kissed again, to the joy of everyone.

Hermione, Harry and Ron sat there eating their food, talking all about the wedding and Fleur's reception to the Weasley family.

"Fleur Weasley," said Hermione with a grimace, "It just doesn't have the same ring as Fleur Delacour."

"True," said Ron through his food.

"Swallow, please."

Ron swallowed, "Yes, but Bill Delacour is even worse."

"It's a French last name, it could never sound terrible with any name!" said Hermione.

Ron shook his head, "Hermione Delacour? No. Hermione Potter? Hermione Weasley? Hermione Malfoy?" he said, "Those sound all fine, but Hermione Delacour."

Hermione ate in silence, "Amelia Malfoy," she said quietly, "Not Hermione."

Ron rolled his eyes, "Whatever. Just eat your food, we can argue about this some other time."

"We aren't arguing!"

"But we will shortly," said Ron.

"That's not true!"

"Hermione," interjected Harry, "You're now arguing that you won't be arguing. Isn't that…weird?"

"_Oh_, yes. Well, let's just eat. We have be back to the Manor tonight."

"Tonight?" asked Ron around a piece of chicken.

"Yes," Hermione nodded, "I can't stay here tonight. I promised that we'd return afterwards."

"Can't be breaking any promises now, can we?" said Ron sarcastically, and he began to attack the mashed potatoes with a sort of vengeance.

"Ron," sighed Harry, "Let's just get back to Malfoy Manor after supper. We'll talk to Bill and Fleur, since they both seem to know what's going on, and I'm sure they'll be happy that we showed up."

"Fine," said Ron shortly.

Hermione sighed and just finished off her supper. She looked at Harry, flashed him an apologetic look, and stood up from the table. She walked over to where Fleur and Bill were sitting and she approached them cautiously. When they saw her, both smiled and waved her over.

"Hermione!" said Fleur, standing up and greeting her with a hug and kiss to both cheeks. "How are you?"

"Excellent, really. The food was wonderful and the ceremony was beautiful. I loved your dress it was gorgeous."

Fleur beamed, "Thank you, Mya," she said warmly, "How is Draco? I know he couldn't make it tonight, but I do wish he could've been here."

Hermione sighed, "He's angry with me right now, nothing to worry about though. You're married!" Hermione said with a grin, "Imagine! I expect they'll be little redheads and blonde haired children running about in no time!"

Fleur blushed, "Perhaps sooner than you think!"

Hermione looked at her, "But…but…Fleur!"

"I know, I know. But it was before that awful night, and Bill and I love each other."

"I'm not angry with you! No, don't think that, please don't think that." Hermione begged earnestly, taking Fleur's hand in hers, "I'm happy for you!"

"_Oh_, I'm so pleased!" gushed Fleur, "Come, come! Bill and I wanted to thank you for showing up today."

"Mya!" said Bill, hugging her, "It's wonderful that you were able to make it!" he backed away from her, but kept his hands on her shoulders and looked her up and down, "You look wonderful."

"Thanks," said Hermione, "You look much better yourself."

"Don't compliment me, Mya," he said seriously, "I know how I look. I'm just glad that Fleur agreed to marry me still."

Fleur gave him a sour look and Bill laughed.

"I'm sorry," said Hermione, "But I have to leave soon. I just wanted to congratulate both of you."

"Thank you," they both said.

"When is your wedding to be?" asked Fleur.

Hermione blushed, "I haven't a clue. It's so far off that nothing's been planned yet."

"Well, Bill and I will be there," said Fleur with a hug, "And don't hesitate to ask me for any help with the planning."

"Thanks, Fleur."

Fleur smiled warmly at her, "I ought to be thanking you for introducing me to Bill."

Bill laughed, "I ought to thank Draco for steal that scarab."

Fleur smack him on the arm, but smiled nonetheless.

"Well, I'm going to collect Harry and Ron and then we'll be off. I'm glad that you are both finally married."

"Thank you, Mya," said Fleur warmly, hugging Hermione a final time.

"Yea, thank you, Mya," said Bill, wrapping his arm around his wife's waist.

Hermione smiled a final time, and then turned away from them. She walked back to Harry and Ron who were sitting there at the table, talking to Fred and George about the shop in Diagon Alley.

"Are you guys ready?" she said as she approached the table.

"Yea," said Harry. He stood up and looked at Ron who was still sitting.

"You guys go ahead, I'm going to stay here a bit with my family."

"Are you sure?" asked Hermione.

"Yea, I don't know when I'll get to see them next."

"Well, alright," said Hermione, she turned to go, but hesitated. Then she turned back and threw herself at Ron and hugged him.

"_Oomph_!" said Ron as all the air flowed out of him, "Hermione!" He flashed a surprised look at Harry who just shrugged. Ron awkwardly placed a hand on her back, "I'll be back to the Manor after spending time with my family, I promise."

"_Oh_, I know, Ron," said Hermione backing away from him, "I don't know what came over me. You aren't angry with me are you?"

Ron looked at her agape, "Angry? Why would I be angry with you?"

"I thought you were angry with me?"

"For what?"

"For this, for everything," said Hermione, waving her arm in a wide circle, "Everything that's happened."

"_Oh_, Hermione," said Ron softly, "No, I'm not angry with you." He grimaced, and then said, "I'm angry with everything, the entire situation. But not with you."

Hermione nodded, and said, "I'm sorry."

Ron nodded curtly, "Now go back to the Manor. I'm sure you have things to do there," he said with an angry expression on his face.

"_Oh_, Ron," said Hermione. She turned to leave, and finally left when he waved his hand at her, "Bye, Ron. We'll see you in a bit."

He nodded as both Harry and Hermione walked away from the table and through the crowds of people that had gathered for the wedding. When they arrived at the front of the Burrow near the Apparation point, Harry turned to Hermione and with a nod, he turned and disappeared. Hermione sighed to herself and disappeared as well.

**Please _Read_ and _Review_!**

Once again, nothing really to say. I hope there is enough Hermione/Draco interaction for people. I'm trying to keep them all in character, and I think it's working. If you see something out of place, please mention it.

KaytiSarai


	11. Godric's Hollow

**Title:** The Secrets of Hermione Granger

**Chapter:** (11-?)  
**Disclaimer:** I am not J.K. Rowling, nor do I ever intend to be.  
**Author's Note:** Nothing of great importance to say today…Oh! I highly recommend anything of Jane Austen's. I've just finished _Pride and Prejudice_ and am working my way through _Sense and Sensibility_. She's a great writer, it might be a little difficult to get accustomed to her style, she did write almost two centuries ago, so it's different that authors today. But _Pride and Prejudice_ is almost Dramione-like…almost. (I'm sure Miss Austen is rolling in her grave now…lovely.)

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Chapter 11**  
_Godric's Hollow  
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Breakfast was a silent affair the next morning. Draco refused to speak to Hermione, Ron was busy stuffing his face, Harry was brooding, Hermione was suffering from Draco's ignoring her, Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy were sharing the _Prophet_ occasionally scoffing at some article or another. Finally, breakfast was cleared and the four teens rose to head to the library and continue their research when Lucius spoke up, looking over the top of his paper.

"A moment, Mr. Potter," he said.

Harry stopped and looked to Ron. Ron didn't say anything but he shrugged carelessly.

"Mr. Weasley and Mya should stay for this," he said.

"What is it, Uncle Lucius," said Hermione as she sat back down in her seat. Draco remained standing, but he didn't seem inclined to leave the room.

"I have something that may interest Mr. Potter."

"What's that, Mr. Malfoy?"

"I have the managed to procure the note that Peter Pettigrew sent to the Dark Lord with the whereabouts of your parents' home."

Harry looked stunned at this news, "But, where did you get it?"

Lucius smirked, "I do not reveal all my tricks," he shifted in his chair, "But I thought you would like to visit your own home at some point in the future. If you would like the address I can pass you along the piece of paper." And just like that Mr. Malfoy managed to grant Harry one of his greatest dreams. Lucius just flicked his newspaper back up, blocking the view of the spluttering Harry.

"Uncle Lucius!" said Hermione, leaning forward eagerly in her seat, "Where did you get that note?" she pleaded.

Lucius lowered the paper again and looked at Hermione, "Don't you have somewhere to be right now?"

"Not really," she said with a puzzled face, "No, I don't think so."

Lucius quirked an eyebrow, "Really? Well, in that case, I think the front garden needs weeding."

Hermione's mouth fell open, "What?"

"You heard me."

"But you have elves!"

"I think you ought to do it."

"And a gardener!"

"I really think you and Draco ought to weed the front garden."

"Dad!" said Draco, surprised that he was brought into the mess, "I think that the Puckles are perfectly able to weed the front gardens," he sniffed, crossing his arms.

"I think you're perfectly able to do it as well," said Lucius, glaring at his son, "I also happen to think that I'm perfectly able to take away your broom privileges."

"Uncles Lucius!" said Hermione, "Do you really want us to weed the garden?" she asked meekly.

"Yes, now go."

The two trooped out of the room in a quiet huff. Hermione had a slaughtered look on her face and Draco was muttering under his breath. Harry and Ron were standing there awkwardly, unsure of where to go now that Hermione was gone.

Lucius noticed the pair standing near the door, "Don't you have somewhere to be?"

Harry panicked, "May I have that address, Mr. Malfoy?" he said quickly.

Lucius smiled, "Certainly," he reached into the pocket on his robe and procured the small slip of parchment. He held it out to Harry, who took it from him. Lucius picked up his newspaper again and began to read.

"Thank you, sir," said Harry.

Lucius made a sound behind his paper. Harry and Ron looked at each other and turned to exit the door but were once again stop by Lucius calling to them.

"Take Mya and Draco with you."

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Draco and Hermione both stomped out into the hallway that led to the foyer. Draco was muttering invectives under his breath, and Hermione had a worried expression on her face.

"Would you please stop muttering, Draco?" she said quietly.

"Why?" he asked harshly.

"Because it's annoying."

"How is it annoying?" he said peevishly.

Hermione stopped just before the door that led to the grounds, Draco slammed into her because she stopped so suddenly.

"Walk much?" she said darkly.

"Well, if you hadn't stopped like that, then I wouldn't have run into you!"

"What's crawled up your arse and died?"

"Nothing that matters to you!" and with that he strode around her, pulled open the door and walked out onto the garden path. He stalked down that gravel path that led to the private gardens and Hermione was walking behind him, rushing to keep up.

"Would you slow down?"

There was no answer from Draco.

"Please?"

He stopped.

She ran into him.

"Walk much?" he said nastily, turning around to look at her.

"Why are you being such a prick?"

"Why are you being so annoying?"

"What is your problem?"

"What's your problem?"

"Draco! This is getting us nowhere!"

"You're right!" he shouted, "We have to weed a stupid garden!" and he stalked off again.

"Why do you keep walking away from me?"

"Why do you keep following me?" he called back to her.

"Draco!"

"HERMIONE!"

Hermione heard her name called and turned around. She saw Harry and Ron walking quickly after her calling her name.

"HERMIONE!" shouted Ron, waving his hand.

She turned around fully, and waved back to them to show that she had heard them and would wait for them.

"_Hermione!_" drawled a high-pitched voice just behind her, "_Hermione!_ _Wait for us! Don't leave us behind with scary Malfoy!_"

"Draco," said Hermione slowly, pinching the bridge of her nose.

"_Don't leave us in that house! Something might eat us! The Death Eaters might kill us!_"

"Draco!"

"_Please, Hermione! We want to hide behind your knee-length virginal skirts that you never let Draco up!_"

"Draco!"

"Why don't you just leash them or something?" he said in a scathing voice, "They're almost like your dogs. They follow you everywhere, and they pee to mark their territory."

"Seriously, Draco," said Hermione, turning around to look at him, "What is your problem?"

"No, Mya, what's your problem?"

"What are you talking about?"

"You! You hate being followed around, chased and called after. Why can they get away with it?"

Hermione shrugged, "I don't know."

"It's disgusting. I hate it, I hate they way they call after you like you're some sort of lost kitten or something." He crossed his arms over his chest, "You are giving them more leeway than I would ever get."

"Draco," she pleaded, "They're my best friends. I can't help that what they do is…distasteful."

Harry and Ron had finally caught up to the couple. Both were winded and breathing heavily, Ron was clutching at a stitch in his chest, and Harry was flushed from the run across the grounds.

"Ron and I are going to Godric's Hollow," said Harry in between deep breaths, "Would you like to go with us, Hermione?"

Hermione brightened considerably, "Yes! Very much so!"

"_Yes! Very much so!_"

"Malfoy," said Harry, "You have to come with us."

"I do not!" he said.

"Your father said you have to," sneered Ron.

"He is set on ruining my life!" burst out Draco after a few moments of silence, throwing his arms into the air and his cheeks now tinged pink.

"Draco, you're being ridiculous," said Hermione, "He probably just wanted you to come for the extra protection."

"Right," said Harry, agreeing quickly so he could get to his parent's house, "Let's go!" he looked around, "_Err_, can we Apparate from here?"

"Yes," sneered Draco. He crossed his arms, "Where do we Apparate?"

Harry smiled and pulled the bit of parchment from his trouser pocket and waved it at him. Hermione squealed and ran next to Harry to see what the parchment said. Draco cast her a scathing look, but walked close enough that he would be able to read what was on the parchment. Harry held the piece out in the center of the small group so that all could read what it said.

_93 Pagoda Lane_

_Godric's Hollow, Yorkshire_

Hermione smiled at Harry, "Well then? I think you ought to go first!

Harry nodded, he span and left the group. Ron went next with his characteristically loud boom, followed by Hermione, and then Draco who span reluctantly and left with a disappointed pop.

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Unfortunately, when the group arrived at 93 Pagoda Lane, they were surprised to see there was a house standing on the property. Hermione looked cautiously at it and noted there was a car in the drive, flowers in the garden, and a well-kept lawn on the slope that led up to the house.

"Harry?" she said, edging near him, "I thought the house had been destroyed."

"So did I." Harry said quietly. He looked at the house with a frown, noting that there was a bicycle left carelessly toppled over on the pavement between the car and the street, and that the gate leading to the back garden was open. He walked up the drive to the pavement leading up to the front door and saw that a hopscotch diagram was drawn there in pink chalk. He frowned to the three behind and but continued up the path to the door.

"Well?" said Draco, "Are you going to knock or should we stand here hoping they sense our presence?"

Harry shot him a glare over his shoulder, raised his fist, and knocked firmly three times on the door.

To their shock and surprise, a middle-aged woman answered. She was dressed in a pair of denim trousers, with a pink shirt, and there was a rather large dog behind her barking at them.

"Hello?" she said with a puzzled expression, "Is there something wrong?"

Harry just looked at her; he half expected the house to be an illusion, part of the Fidelius charm or something of the sort. He said absolutely nothing, but just looked at the woman with a shocked expression.

"_Err_," said Hermione from behind Harry, "We were just visiting the neighborhood," she said stepping around Harry and to the front of the small group, "The last time we were here, we don't remember this house being here. Could you tell us when it was built?"

The woman gave her a suspicious look, "As far as I know this house has stood here these past fifty years or so."

Hermione colored, "_Err_, well, could you tell us when you moved in?"

The woman narrowed her eyes, "I inherited the house from my father not fifteen years ago."

"From your father?" said Ron.

"Yes," she said.

"Well, we must have the wrong house," said Hermione quickly, "The place we're looking for burnt down awhile ago."

"I thought you were just in the neighborhood?"

"Well," said Hermione, "it's really very complicated."

"What's the address?"

"Ninety-three Pagoda Lane," said Harry speaking up.

The woman's eyes widened, "Why are you looking for that place?"

"It's really very complicated," said Hermione again, "We're sorry we bothered you. We really ought to be going."

"No! Wait!" said the woman, "You're just at the wrong end of the street, is all. If you walk down that way you'll find the house. Or rather the lot. It's not really a home to speak of anymore, no one's lived there for years."

"Yes, thank you," said Hermione quickly, trying to rush the boys away, "I'm sure we'll find it."

"Wait," said Harry, pulling away from Hermione, "Did you know the people who lived there?"

"Yes, they were a funny sort. Very kind, but rather funny. They were very young, I don't know if they even went to university or not, but they seemed to have no financial problems, so I assume they worked or had inherited well."

"Did you know them though?" pressed Harry.

"They hadn't lived there a long time, and I had been away at university, as I said, when they moved in. They only lived there three years or so. I only saw them during the summers."

"Do you remember them at all?" asked Harry eagerly.

"Well, not really. As I said, I didn't know them very well."

"Thank you, ma'am," said Hermione, trying to pull Harry out of the conversation.

"But they would've been about your age," insisted Harry, ignoring Hermione.

The woman looked startled, "Well, yes, that's true. But I didn't really know them at all."

"Do you remember what they looked liked?" Harry pressed.

"Why?" asked the woman, her eyes narrowed in suspicion, "Do you know them?"

"Not really," said Hermione quickly, "Come on, Harry."

"Yea, mate," said Ron, "Let's just go down to the spot."

"Would you please wait?" said Harry, suddenly angry with the two of them. Draco was just leaning against the side of the house, his arms crossed, not really paying any attention to what was happening. Harry shot him a glare for being so indifferent, and then glared at Hermione and Ron, "She might have known my parents!"

"They were your parents?" said the woman softly.

"Yes," said Harry, turning around to look at her, "They were."

"I'm sorry, dear, I hadn't known."

"Please," said Harry, "Did you know them at all?"

"I'm afraid that I didn't. I do know that the woman who lived there liked to garden a lot. She had some of the most beautiful gardens on the whole street."

"She had red hair?" asked Harry eagerly.

The woman nodded, "Very red, and very curly, almost wild. I remember she had these amazing green eyes, quite like your own."

"Do you remember my father?" asked Harry.

The woman thought a moment, "He was very tall, and rather skinny," she said after a moment, "He had very dark hair and wore glasses. He was a bit of a prankster if I remember correctly. I remember coming home during the summer and my father complaining about finding frogs in the well."

Harry laughed, "Frogs in the well?"

"I said he was a bit of a prankster," she smiled at him, "They seemed like very nice people. What happened to them?"

"_Oh_," said Harry, his face fell, "They were murdered."

"I'm terribly sorry dear, when did that happen?"

"About sixteen years ago. Right here on this street, in their house."

"_Oh_, dear!" she said, raising her hand to her mouth, "I'm sorry! I'm terribly sorry, if I had known! _Oh_, dear!"

"Please," said Harry, "Do you remember anything else?"

"I do remember they had a small baby with them," she nodded, "I suppose that was you? And I know that she invited me into her kitchen when I was home during the summers, your mother did I mean."

"You were in their house?" said Harry.

"Yes, it was always very neat and clean. And your mother was an excellent cook, always with things she'd grown in the garden. I remember she gave me something called pumpkin juice once, isn't that odd?"

Harry smiled, "Pumpkin juice! Isn't it delicious?"

"I don't remember, I only had it that one time."

"It's delicious!" assured Harry.

"Would you like me to walk with you to where the house used to be?"

"Yes, please!"

"Let me tell my husband where I'll be going, I'll be out in a minute," she turned away from them and shut the door on the four teens.

Draco sneered at Harry, "How wonderful that you should find the very person that actually knew your parents."

"Draco," said Hermione, "Be nice."

Ron slapped Harry on the back, "She knew your mum, mate! This is excellent!"

"Yea, yea it is," said Harry with a small smile on his face.

The door opened and there appeared the woman again, "Alright, this is Fortinbras," she said pointing to the large, black dog behind her, "He needs to be taken on a walk. I hope you don't mind dogs?"

"No," said Harry faintly, looking at the large, black, shaggy dog, "We…we love dogs."

The woman smiled, "Excellent." She walked out of the house, closing the door behind her, "I can't confess how glad I am to see you. My husband is absolutely driving me up the wall, and I needed to get away from the children."

Hermione smiled, "How many children do you have?" she asked as they turned down the pavement.

"Four."

"Four!" exclaimed Draco, "Four! Merlin!"

"Draco!" hissed Hermione.

"Yes, four," the woman said, "There's Emily, who's seventeen, Robert who's thirteen. Then I have James who is twelve, and Georgia at seven."

"Four!" said Draco.

"Yes."

"I grew up with five older brothers, and a younger sister," said Ron, "There were seven children and my two parents in my house."

"Large families are a blessing," said the woman.

"Yes, they are," said Hermione, "My name is Hermione."

"My name is Elisabeth," she said with a smile.

"I'm Harry."

"Ron."

"Draco."

"Draco?"

"Yes, Draco."

"Very interesting name," she said.

"Yes, quite."

They walked along in silence for a few minutes. Harry was looking around the street, at the age old trees and the cracked pavement in front of them. Hermione was looking concernedly at Harry and occasionally at Draco, and Ron just seemed content to be walking along a muggle street, observing all the ordinary muggle things that he never saw at the Burrow.

"Well," said Elisabeth stopping in front of an empty lot between two rather large, Victorian homes. "This is where the house used to stand."

Harry looked at it; he saw the drive, and the pavement that led up to where the entrance would have been. He walked slowly down the front walkway and stopped when he reached the end of it, "This is where the door was," he whispered. He looked down where the pavement ended and the grass began. He stepped onto the grass and into what would've been the foyer of his house.

He looked back at the group, Hermione was standing close to Ron, Draco was apart from the group, and the woman Elisabeth was looking at him. Fortinbras, the dog, escaped her grasp and bounded up to Harry, sniffing around his feet and legs. Harry smiled softly down at the dog and patted Fortinbras' head with his hand, "Hey, boy."

The dog then bounded away from Harry, he barked and then put his nose to the dirt, sniffing around what would've been the house. Harry watched him a bit and was startled when Hermione was speaking from next to him.

"I know what you're thinking."

"What's that?" he said, looking down at her.

"He's not Snuffles."

"He looks an awful lot like him," said Harry wistfully.

"I already checked," she said sadly.

"_Oh_."

Suddenly, Fortinbras began barking in earnest. Harry and Hermione turned around to see what was bothering him. Fortinbras ran to Harry and began tugging on Harry's pant leg. Elisabeth ran forward and tried to pull Fortinbras from Harry, but she was no match for the large dog. Finally, the dog gave up and ran back to the spot, barked, ran back to Harry, barked and continued in this fashion.

"Harry," said Ron, "I think he wants you to look at something."

Harry nodded; he checked the long pocket on the side of his trousers for his wand and walked over to where the dog was barking. When Harry got over there, all his worries disappeared, what Fortinbras had found was a hidden trap door that had probably led into a lower cellar in the house. Harry looked at Hermione who just shrugged. He reached for the rusty handle and pulled the ancient wooden door away from the earth. Dust rose into the air and Harry coughed a bit, waving a hand before his face to clear it away.

Hermione and Harry peered down into the darkness, a small patch of square light showed a stone floor about ten feet below where they stood.

"Harry?" said Hermione in a quiet voice, "What are you thinking?"

Harry looked up at her, "I'm going down there."

"Are you sure that's a good idea?"

"No," he looked up and called Ron over. Ron walked over quickly and looked at the opening.

"Whoa! What's that?"

"Dunno," said Harry, "But I'm going to find out."

"I'm going with you," said Ron, who then checked to make sure he had his wand.

Elisabeth looked at the two boys, "No, I don't think you should go down there."

"We'll be alright," said Harry absently, running through spells and hexes in his mind, "Hermione, can you stay up here with Malfoy?"

"No, absolutely not. You're not going down there without me," she said, crossing her arms.

"Oi! Malfoy!" called Ron to the reluctant and angry blond.

He sauntered over, "Could you not call like a jarvey?"

Ron sneered at him, "We're going down there," he pointed into the darkness, "Keep precious _Mya_ up here."

"Ronald!" said Hermione.

"Fine," agreed Draco, looking at the gaping hole in the earth.

"Harry!" said Hermione, "I'm going with you.

Harry looked at her, "Fine."

"Harry!" said Ron, whipping around to look at him, "What are you thinking, mate?"

"I'm thinking it's Hermione, Ron."

"I don't think this is such a good idea, Potter," said Draco uneasily.

Hermione sighed, and in an act entirely unlike herself, she threw herself down the hole before anyone could even react. She heard the three boys and Elisabeth's screams, but that was whipped from her mind when she landed on something soft. She lit her wand and looked around. It seemed to be a long tunnel with roman arches rising over her head, supporting the ceiling. She stood up and noticed that even though it looked like stone, someone must've cast a cushioning charm at the spot there below the trap door.

She looked up to the square patch of light and saw four worried faces, "It's a soft landing, just jump!"

A moment later, Harry was standing next to her, having lit her wand just like she had, "What do you suppose this is?"

"I can't even begin to guess," Hermione said.

"Blimey!" said Ron as he dusted himself off, having landed while Hermione and Harry were talking, "It's some sort of tunnel!"

"Thanks, Weasley," drawl Draco from behind them. He picked at some bits of dust that had settled on his clothing, and brushed back his hair, "I rather imagined this was a Quidditch pitch, silly me."

"_Ahhh!_"

The four turned around and were surprised to see Elisabeth had landed and was slowly standing up. Fortinbras then landed next to her.

"What do you think you're doing?" asked Harry, astonished that she had followed them down.

"You need an adult with you," she said breathlessly, brushing her hair out of her eyes, "And since I was the only one around…"

"A muggle!" said Draco in disbelief, "A muggle! What good'll a muggle do us?"

"Draco!" said Hermione.

"What's a muggle?" asked Elisabeth curiously, after checking Fortinbras to make sure he was alright.

"You are!" said Draco.

"Is being a 'muggle' a bad thing?" A chorus of 'no's' and one yes were heard. She raised her eyebrows at them, "Well, what is a muggle?"

"She doesn't know what she is," said Draco.

"Shut up, Malfoy," said Harry, "A muggle is…Hermione, may I tell her? I mean, since she has followed her down here, she is involved."

"It violates the Statute of Secrecy," she said uneasily, "I don't want to know what they'll do to us if the Ministry finds out what we did."

"Yea, mate," said Ron, "I don't fancy a visit to Azkaban."

Harry looked at his friends, his face hardened and he turned back to Elisabeth, "A muggle is a person who can't use magic."

Elisabeth looked blankly at him for a moment, "I'm afraid I just missed something, what did you say?"

"A—muggle—can—not—use—magic," said Draco, speaking slowly as through Elisabeth had only the smallest grasp of the English language.

Elisabeth looked at him funny, "What do you mean magic?"

Draco sighed, pulled his wand from his pocket and looked at Elisabeth whose eyes widened. He smirked, held his wand in the air, said, "_Orchideous_" with a gentle flick, and produced a bouquet of red roses, which he then handed to Elisabeth.

She looked at him, and then at the roses, "But—they're real!" she exclaimed in surprise.

"Of course they are!" he said, "What type of wizard would I be if I only made faux roses?"

"I've never seen a magician conjure real roses before!"

"I am a wizard!" said Draco, astonished at her thickness, "Not one of your muggle magicians."

Hermione sighed, "Elisabeth, really, we all can perform magic. We went to school for it, we learned how to use it."

She looked at them suspiciously, "What are you talking about? Magic doesn't exist."

"We don't have time for this," said Draco, "Let's just go and find out where this tunnel leads." And with that he lit his wand and strode down the tunnel.

Hermione looked at him and then at Harry and Ron, she sighed, turned and ran after him, "Draco, wait up."

He slowed down until she caught up with him, and when she did, he began walking quickly again. The tunnel was very long, and seemed to be sloped downwards. The walls rose above their heads, and ended in arches above. It was surprisingly dry; there were no rats, no dripping water, no spider webs.

"Where do you suppose this leads?" whispered Hermione to Draco.

"I don't know," he whispered back, "But this is very strange."

They heard footsteps behind them and both turned, wands raised, but they were only greeted with the faces of Harry, Ron, and Elisabeth. Fortinbras was there beside them, but now he was silent, seeming to feel the somberness of the place. Hermione sighed at seeing them, but Draco only made a sound deep in his throat, somewhere between annoyance and thanks.

"So," began Elisabeth, "You really are wizards?"

"Yes," said Draco shortly, "Now, let's see what's at the end of this tunnel."

He turned around and continued walking. Hermione shrugged to the others and followed after him, her lit wand held high over her head. Harry and Ron did the same. Elisabeth hurried up next to Hermione and they walked between Draco in the lead, and Harry and Ron in the rear. Fortinbras had gone in front and was walking besides Draco, who actually seemed to enjoy the dog's company.

They walked for almost a half hour, only scarce conversation passing between them as all ears were listening for any sounds that might be of an unfriendly nature. Suddenly, Draco pulled up to a stop in front of them. Hermione stopped next to him, followed by Elisabeth, Harry, and Ron. Fortinbras let out a sort of short bark that echoed in the long tunnel, but was silent afterwards.

"Well," breathed Draco, "I'll be. Would you look at that!"

"Blimey," said Ron in a whisper. He walked forward a bit more, his mouth agape, "I've never seen anything like it."

Harry was silent, but he was also staring wide-eyed at a large portrait of the Four Founders.

"What do you suppose it's doing down here?" asked Ron.

"I don't know," said Hermione. She walked closer to the portrait and began to examine the edges, looking for some sort of opening or another.

"Hey! You! Girl!" said a voice above her head. Hermione looked up and saw that one of the people in the painting was speaking to her, "Yes! You!" said the same voice.

"Me?" said Hermione, backing away from the portrait so she could look at it properly.

"Yes, how did you get down here?" said a sallow looking man with a goatee, and a green cape and hood.

"Well, I followed the tunnel."

"The tunnel?" said another voice, this time female. Hermione moved her eyes to the dark haired woman in a purple dress, "You've found the tunnel? How delightful!"

"Yes!" agreed the other, rather plump, woman in the portrait, who was dressed in a blue robe, with a red cape, "We've been rather lonely here, dear. Now who might you be?"

"_Erm_," said Hermione.

"Come, come, don't be shy" commanded a large, brown haired man who was dressed in a red and gold robe, "What's happened to decent bravery these days?" he muttered under his breath.

"I am Amelia Hermione Kowal of Wiltshire," said Hermione, dipping a curtsy, "Pleased to make your acquaintance."

"_Ah_," said the sallow faced one, "A proper pure-blood. No doubt you're a Slytherin, Miss Kowal?"

Hermione bit her lip, but was saved from answering when the woman in the purple dress.

"Nay, Salazar. Look at the intelligence in her eyes; she's a Ravenclaw, I'll warrant."

"Dear friends!" said the plump woman in blue, "Has anyone of such loyalty never been other than a Hufflepuff?"

"A Slytherin! Or a Ravenclaw!" said the man with the dark hair, "Nonsense! It's even less likely she's a Hufflepuff! Nay, she's a Gryffindor if I ever saw one!"

They continued to discuss Hermione's House for quite awhile before deciding to ask her who was correct.

"Well, Miss Kowal," asked the goateed man, "To which House do you belong?"

"Sir, I am a Gryffindor."

"Ha!" said the man berobed in red and gold, "I said she is a brave soul!"

In a rush to appease all the Founders, Hermione spoke up again, "But both my siblings are in Slytherin, and I was almost chosen for Ravenclaw."

"Well," said the plump woman, "As long as you are loyal to family and friend alike, then it is as good as being a Hufflepuff," she smiled down at Hermione.

"My word," said the woman in purple, "We have forgot our manners being down here so long. I am Rowena Ravenclaw of Gleann Comhann." She bowed her head and smiled down to Hermione.

"I am Salazar Slytherin of Norfolk."

"I am Godric Gryffindor of Northumbria."

"And I am Helga Hufflepuff of Wales."

Draco stepped forward and bowed elegantly, "I am Draco Thuban Malfoy of Wiltshire."

"_Ah_!" said Salazar Slytherin, "Now this one here! He's a Slytherin!"

"Yes, sir, I am."

"Excellent!" said he.

"Now," spoke up Rowena looking at the others before the portrait, "Who are these fine people who have accompanied you?"

Ron stepped forward and bowed, though a bit awkwardly, "Ronald Bilius Weasley of…_er_…Devonshire."

Harry stepped forward, looking more than a bit awkward, "Harry James Potter of Surrey."

"Elisabeth Evans of Yorkshire," said Elisabeth, dipping a small awkward curtsy with a blush on her cheeks.

"Now that we're all introduced," said Godric Gryffindor, "How is it that you came to find this tunnel?"

Harry stepped forward, "Well, you see, sir, it's very complicated. My parents' house was built over the entrance."

"Over the entrance to the tunnel?" said Salazar Slytherin, "How did they built a home over the entrance?"

"Well, it's a trap door, you see," said Harry, pointing behind him, "The trap door led to this tunnel, which led to you."

"A trap door!" said Rowena Ravenclaw, rather startled at the news. "That was a castle at one point!"

"A castle?" asked Ron, "Well, there's no castle there now, it's just an empty lot with some weeds and stuff," he saw Harry out of the corner of his eye, "Very lovely weeds, did I mention that?"

"I don't understand," said Helga Hufflepuff, "There was a castle there during our time. How long has Hogwarts been opened, dears?"

"Over one thousand years," said Hermione.

"One thousand years!" exclaimed Godric Gryffindor, "One thousand years! Imagine!" he began pacing in the portrait, "And the school has been educating students for that long?"

"Yes, sir," said Draco, "My father was a Slytherin, and my mother was in Ravenclaw. Before that my Grandparents on both sides were Slytherins. As far back the Malfoy House has married either those of Ravenclaw or Slytherin House."

"Until now!" whispered Ron under his breath.

"What did you say, boy?" asked Salazar Slytherin, "It'd be just like a red headed Gryffindor to made snide comments under his breath. Speak up! Show your bravery!"

"I said 'until now!'"

"And what's that supposed to mean?" asked Salazar.

Draco cleared his throat, "Miss Kowal and I are betrothed to be married."

"_Oh_, How delightful!" said Helga Hufflepuff, "A wedding! When is this to be?"

Hermione blushed, "Not for some time still, Miss Hufflepuff."

Helga Hufflepuff looked slightly disappointed, "My dear, a good girl from a decent family would have been married by this time. But, I suppose, the times have changed."

"Yes," said Hermione, still blushing, "They have."

"Now, children of Hogwarts," said Rowena Ravenclaw, "What is it that you are seeking? You are obviously on a quest of some sort or else you wouldn't have walked so far down this tunnel."

"I was looking for my parents' house," said Harry, "But it was destroyed by Lord Voldemort."

"Lord Voldemort?" said Salazar Slytherin, "What sort of name is that?"

"It's a name that he made for himself from his old name," said Harry.

"And what, pray tell, was his old name?" asked Helga Hufflepuff.

"Tom Marvolo Riddle."

"Riddle?" said Salazar Slytherin, "That is not a proper pure-blood name at all. No, not at all."

"He is your descendent," said Harry. Salazar Slytherin looked startled at this idea, "He is the son of a woman named Merope Gaunt and Tom Riddle."

"Gaunt? I don't know this name either!" said Salazar Slytherin. "He's not a pure-blood? What is he the Lord of?"

"He fancies himself the Dark Lord," said Ron.

"The Dark Lord?" said Godric Gryffindor, "The Dark Lord of what?"

"A Lord over Dark Magic," said Hermione.

Rowena Ravenclaw gasped, "Dark Magic! No! No, we did not teach that at Hogwarts! Is it now a part of the curriculum?"

"No," said Draco shortly, "Dark Magic is not taught at Hogwarts."

"I am most relieved," said Helga Hufflepuff, "We did not found that school to teach young wizards and witches dark magic."

"But," said Salazar Slytherin, "what is this Lord Voldemort trying to accomplish?"

"He wants to kill all the muggle-borns and half-bloods," said Hermione, looking at the sallow man, "He is your descendent."

Salazar looked surprised, "He is a half-blood sanctioning the killing of his own kind? That I could never condone, madam. Never."

"You did not want them in Hogwarts," said Hermione in an accusing voice, "You did not want them in the castle. The Houses are still split over this today! You left Hogwarts over it!"

"I did what?" said Salazar Slytherin eyes wide. "I left the castle over an argument about the admittance of muggle-borns, splitting the Houses for over one thousand years?"

"Yes," said Ron scathingly, "And you left behind the Chamber of Secrets with a basilisk! It's killed people! He was controlled by You-know-who and he killed a girl in the lav! Then five years ago the basilisk was set loose again and petrified a number of students." Salazar Slytherin looked shocked at all these accusations, but Ron continued. "No one died this time, but how many times in the past was the Chamber opened? Luckily, Harry here was able to kill it."

"You were able to kill a basilisk?" said Godric Gryffindor in an awed voice, "He _is_ a true Gryffindor then!"

"I did it with your sword that I pulled from the Sorting Hat," said Harry.

"My sword!" Godric Gryffindor beamed down to Harry, "You were able to pull my sword from the hat? The hat must've thought you a true Gryffindor then, as well."

"Yes," smiled Harry.

"You killed my basilisk?" said Salazar in an empty voice, "My basilisk? _Oh_, Zimmera. You've killed Zimmera!"

"She killed students!"

"She was an innocent basilisk!"

"She was a basilisk that could kill with a glance!"

"If only you were a parselmouth and could understand!" moaned Salazar Slytherin.

"I _am_ a parselmouth," countered Harry.

"Then how could you kill a snake?"

"Because the basilisk was petrifying students! And then Ginny was taken into the Chamber of Secrets and almost killed by Tom Riddle!"

"Who is Ginny?" asked Helga Hufflepuff, "And what has this Tom Riddle to do with it all."

Harry sighed and buried his face into his hands.

"Harry," said Hermione, "I think we ought to start from the beginning." She turned around and waved her wand, five chairs formed in the air, span slowly and then all landed on the ground. Elisabeth looked surprised, but cautiously sat down in one.

Hermione sat down in one of the chairs, followed by Harry, Ron, and Draco. Once all were seated the story began from the beginning. From the very beginning, with Tom Riddle controlling the basilisk and killing Moaning Myrtle, to the creation of the diary as a horcrux, which was left in the possession of Lucius Malfoy, who passed it along to Ginny Weasley under the orders of the Headmaster. The story continued with the petrification of the students, the days of unease and terror. Harry told of Gilderoy Lockhart, and how they managed to bring him down into the Chamber of Secrets where he met with his unfortunate memory loss. Then to where Harry saw Tom Riddle and Ginny lying there on the floor of the Chamber of Secrets, slowly dying as Tom Riddle consumed her soul. Harry told of Fawkes bringing the Sorting Hat, and how he pulled Gryffindor's sword from the hat, how Fawkes plucked at the basilisk's eyes, blinding him, and how finally, Harry plunged the sword through the roof of the basilisk's mouth, killing it. But at the same time, contracting a deadly wound. He told of how Tom Riddle stood there mocking him, and how Harry finished him off by stabbing the basilisk's poisonous fang through the diary, effectively ending the memory, and destroying the horcrux.

The Founders sat there in silence for a moment, then the three turned on Salazar Slytherin, berating him for leaving such a deadly creature in a place where children live and learn.

The five sat there in the chairs, watching the Founders as they discussed possibilities.

"You said the diary was a horcrux?" asked Rowena Ravenclaw.

"Yes," said Hermione.

Rowena paled, "Those are very Dark Magic. It's a wonder that you survived Mr. Potter."

"Do you know how to destroy them?" asked Draco.

Rowena shook her head, "I'm afraid I don't. Are there more out there? Are horcruxes a common thing today?"

"No," said Hermione, "But Voldemort has made six."

"SIX!" exclaimed the Founders.

"Yes, six," said Hermione, "But, as far as we know two have been destroyed, so there are four remaining." Hermione suddenly sat up straight, "Harry!"

"Yes," he said cautiously, she had that look of sudden understanding.

"You said in the graveyard that Voldemort had a body, right?"

"Yes."

"Do you suppose that he used a horcrux to create that new body?"

"That's not exactly how a horcrux works," said Salazar.

"Do you know how they work then?" asked Hermione.

He nodded, "A horcrux is created by placing a bit of your soul into some object. It doesn't really matter what sort of object, but you'd better keep it safe. Most like to use something that means something to them. But the horcrux itself only holds the soul, and you can't create a body from a soul, it's just not possible. Magic has it's limits, and that is one of them."

"But he had a body!" said Harry, "Where could he have got that?"

"Well, what did the body look like?"

Harry thought, "Like a child of some sort."

Salazar nodded, "It's likely that he killed a child and inhabited the body."

Elisabeth looked sickened, "Who are you people?"

"Elisabeth," said Hermione, "Please, I know we're asking a lot of you by staying, but you can't leave just yet."

"Why not? I feel like I'm going to be sick, and I promised my husband that I'd be home shortly," she stood to leave, but she then collapsed back into the chair.

Hermione turned around and saw Draco had his wand raised, "Before you begin a tirade," said Draco holding up his hand, "There was no other option."

"I know," said Hermione softly.

"Please, don't yell at—what'd you say?"

"I know, I was hoping you would stun her. Thank you."

"A true Slytherin!" said Salazar with a smile, "Cunning, ambitious, using any means to achieve his ends. Excellent."

"About the horcruxes," pressed Harry, "Tell us more."

"The horcrux is just a bit of soul, it can't create of body. That is another sort of dark magic."

"There was a spell performed that night," said Harry.

"What did the spell do?" asked Salazar.

"It was performed in a graveyard, there was a large cauldron, and a _servant_, Wormtail. Wormtail dropped the body into the cauldron, then he—he took bone from his father, flesh from the servant, and blood from the enemy."

"Who's the enemy?"

"I am!"

"That's a very Dark spell," said Rowena gravely, "If it's fooling around with life and death, it's dark magic indeed."

"Do you know of a way to overcome it?" asked Hermione.

"I'm sure there is a spell for it," she said, "You'll have to find the components that are contradictory to what was placed into the potion."

Hermione looked faintly ill, "What would be contradictory to bone of the father?"

"Bone of the son?" Godric offered.

"No, no," said Rowena thoughtfully. She bit her lip, "Contradictory to bone of the father," she mused, "Bone of the mother? But are mother and father really opposites? Do they actually contradict? Then is there anything opposite bone? I don't suppose there is, but perhaps." She frowned, "This I'll have to think about, I'm not sure what are contradictory to all these things."

"What else do you know of horcruxes?" asked Harry.

"Well, I know that six in an inordinate amount," said Salazar, "But that means that each horcrux is very weak, and when a soul is not attached to a body it is much weaker. And that the bit of soul left _in_ the body is weaker by the split and the division. So, in theory, he should be easier to kill since there is only half of him left, but each horcrux in turn needs to be destroyed. Destroying a man and his horcrux require the same amount of magic, so destroying one sixth, or one seventh of a soul is much easier than destroying a whole soul."

Harry looked surprised, "If that's true, why bother making a horcrux at all?"

Salazar grinned dangerously, "Because the soul is still here on earth, only a bit of the soul dies, not the whole thing."

"Horcruxes are a monstrous thing," declared Helga Hufflepuff.

"Indeed," agreed Rowena. She looked down at the four, "Are we able to further aid you in your quest?"

"Is there a way to detect a horcrux?" asked Ron.

"Indeed," said Salazar, "After a horcrux is made, a symbol is placed on it."

"What sort of symbol?" asked Draco.

"It depends on the wizard," said Salazar with a shrug, "I can't tell you what it would look like."

"But I'll bet it on the diary!" said Draco.

"Certainly, if you still have it," he said, "or the basilisk venom didn't burn through it," he finished bitterly.

"Yes, we still have it," said Draco absently.

"Voldemort used your cup as a horcrux," said Harry, nodding toward Helga Hufflepuff.

The plump woman looked surprised. He eyes widened and she held her hand to her chest, "My cup?"

"Yes," said Harry.

"But, that's so disrespectful!" she said outraged, "How could he have forced his soul onto my cup! My precious cup! What is he thinking? It so indecorous! The outrage! The humiliation! Why in our day he would have been shunned for using another's property so!"

"Miss Hufflepuff," said Hermione, interrupting the ranting and raving woman, "Are they any special properties about the cup that we should know?"

Helga Hufflepuff breathed in deeply, "Yes," she said, "The cup is goblin wrought of silver."

"That's…special?" said Ron.

"_Oh_! Yes, my dear!" said Rowena Ravenclaw, "Silver is pure! It is used against werewolves, vampires and all creatures of the dark, including the undead."

"So this cup should act against the horcrux?" said Draco.

"It most certainly should!" cried Helga Hufflepuff indignantly, "Those cups were a set of the finest wrought sixth-century goblin silver! And to imagine that gutter-snipe using one of my heirlooms for something as trivial as a horcrux!"

"Miss Hufflepuff," said Harry, "How do we destroy your cup?"

"Destroy my cup!" she said, highly affronted, "Destroy my cup? Why on earth would you want to destroy my cup?"

"To destroy the horcrux," said Hermione.

Helga Hufflepuff sombered, "I suppose the only way to do it is with a spell, or bring it to the goblins. If they made it, they should be able to destroy it."

Hermione nodded stiffly, "I think that'll do."

"Yea," said Draco quietly, looking to Elisabeth and ensuring her status.

"Well," said Harry, standing up, "should we go?"

"Yes," said Hermione, also standing up. She looked at the Founders, "You've been so helpful, thank you."

"You're most welcome, dear," said Helga Hufflepuff, "I just wish he hadn't chosen my favorite set of cups."

"Come back and visit us someday," said Rowena.

"Yes, I insist!" said Godric.

"And bring me some snakes! I need some good company to talk to!" added Salazar.

Hermione vanished the chairs, and Draco mobilized Elisabeth. Harry and Ron led Fortinbras down the tunnel, which took considerably less time than it had leading toward the portrait. When they reached the end where the trap door was, Harry looked to Hermione who nodded. She flicked her wand at him and levitated him to the top of the trap door. He peeked over the edge and shouted down to her that it was alright to put him over the top. Next Hermione levitated Ron with Fortinbras, and then Draco with Elisabeth. Finally, Harry levitated her from the tunnel and they were all standing in the dusk on the Potter's property.

Draco looked at Elisabeth, "I suppose I should _oblivate_ her."

"Yes," said Harry.

Draco nodded, pointed his wand at Elisabeth's temple, and whispered, "_Obliviate!_" a white whisp flowed out of his wand and into her temple, blocking the memories of today, of ever meeting Harry, Hermione, Ron, and Draco. He blocked the portrait, the conversation at her door, and her walking with them to the lot. He looked up when he was done and looked at Hermione, who simply nodded at him.

"Well, what should we do with her?" asked Harry.

"Well, we could levitate her into her bed," said Ron.

"That's a good plan," said Hermione, "I'll do that. What should we do with Fortinbras?"

"He looks so much like Snuffles," said Harry sadly. Harry knelt down by the big, black dog, "You've been such a good boy, I want you to watch Elisabeth for us, alright?" the dog licked Harry's face in response.

"Come on, mate," said Ron, "Let's get this muggle to bed."

Draco cast a disillusionment charm on Elisabeth and levitated her ahead of the group. Harry and Ron followed with Fortinbras on their heels. Hermione was at the back of the group, thinking of everything that the Founders had said. They finally reached the place where Elisabeth lived and realized that they didn't know where her bedroom was.

"I suppose we can place her on the sofa in the sitting room?" offered Harry.

"Yea, that'll work," agreed Hermione. She looked at Draco, "Disillusion me."

Draco did as asked, and Hermione disappeared from sight, "Alright," said her voice, "I'll levitate Elisabeth into the house and onto the sofa. I'll be back out in a minute or two."

"I suppose we'll let Fortinbras into the house behind you," said Ron.

"Great," said Hermione, who had already taken over the levitation of Elisabeth, "I'll meet you back at the Manor."

"No," said Draco suddenly, "I'll wait for you on the pavement."

A sigh was heard, "Alright, Draco. Harry and Ron, I want you to Apparate back to the Manor."

"We'll wait with Malfoy," said Harry.

"Yea," said Ron.

"Fine," said Hermione briskly, "But stay out of sight." The door to the house suddenly opened, and Fortinbras ran out of Harry's grip and through the door into the house.

Hermione threw open the door and walked into the foyer, it was a nice color she noted. Then she turned to her left and was about to walk into the sitting room, but she noticed that one of Elisabeth's children was watching television. She sighed inaudibly and decided to go up the steps on her right, and hopefully find a bedroom. She climbed the steps, but unfortunately, most of them creaked. She cursed her luck, but no one seemed to hear it over the television.

Her next obstacle came in the form of the person who Hermione assumed was Elisabeth's husband. Hermione sucked in her breath and hugged the wall as he passed, she entered the doorway that he just exited and was happy to note that it seemed to be the couple's bedroom. She lay Elisabeth on the bed, looked quickly at the door to see if her husband was back yet, and removed the disillusionment charm from Elisabeth.

Hermione turned to go, she moved out of the way for Elisabeth's husband who smiled warmly at his wife when he came through the door. Hermione observed them for a few moments, noting that he took off her shoes and then covered her with the quilt. She smiled and then walked down the steps and out of the house.

She disillusioned herself and smiled at the three teenaged boys loitering on the pavement, "Ready?"

"Yea," said Draco, "Let's blow this fizzing whizzbees stand!" and he Disapparated without a second thought. Hermione shook her head and followed him. Harry and Ron were next, leaving the muggles of Pagoda Lane in Godric's Hollow clueless that they had ever been there.

**Please _Read_ and _Review_!**

This chapter is ridiculously long, if you hadn't noticed. I have it at twenty-six pages, and over 8,000 words. By far, my longest chapter.

My imagination is running away with me! It really is, while most of what's in here is on my outline, it is taking turns in conversation that I never even imagined. I honestly don't know where this trap door came from, and the portrait is a mystery to me. I suppose since I'm the author I should know these things, but I'm a firm believer in it all works out for the best, so let's all just cross our fingers, shall we?

KaytiSarai


	12. Trees and SpagBog

**Title:** The Secrets of Hermione Granger

**Chapter:** (12-?)  
**Disclaimer:** I am not J.K. Rowling, nor do I ever intend to be.  
**Author's Note:** Is it bad if I forget my own abbreviations and have no idea what they mean? Yea, I thought so. Oh, by the way, I caught up a whole chapter, so it'll probably be twenty-six chapters now.  
**Author's Note 2:** I'm so sorry, it's been more than a month since I've updated. I'm a terrible person, it's just that school has been so hectic and I haven't even had time to write this chapter, I can't even begin to guess when the next chapter will be written. Please, don't hate me.

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Chapter 12**  
_Trees and SpagBog  
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Harry, Hermione, Draco and Ron Apparated back to Malfoy Manor. It was quite a surprise to the house elves to find the four suddenly appearing in the foyer of the large manor home. Dobby was the first to greet them when they appeared in the foyer, his large, bulbous eyes overwhelmed with tears which dripped down his face and off the tip of his nose, hitting the marble floor of the foyer.

"Master Draco!" he squealed, running to Draco and hugging his legs tightly.

Draco looked awkwardly down at the creature, "Dobby," he said, "Let go of my legs."

"Yes, Master Draco," said he, releasing his hold of Draco. Dobby looked at the other three, "Wheezy!" he said, then hugging Ron's legs.

"_Er_," said Ron, looking to Harry for help. He raised a hand with a disgusted look and patted Dobby's head, "Dobby."

The elf let go and then careened himself at Hermione's legs, "Mistress Mya! Mistress Mya!"

Hermione knelt down, hugging Dobby, "Hello, Dobby," she smiled, "How are you?"

"Dobby is so worried that you is never coming back!" he wailed, tears pouring from his eyes, "Dobby and all house-elves worried you is never coming back! But you is back! You is!"

"Yes, we are Dobby," she smiled at him.

Dobby looked at her through his glassy eyes and then turned to Harry, "Harry Potter is safe!" he squealed, pitching himself bodily at Harry and the locking his arms around Harry's legs, "Dobby hopes Harry Potter is not angry with Dobby, Dobby hopes he does."

Harry staggered at the onslaught of the elf, "No, Dobby," he said a little breathlessly, "I'm not angry with you."

Dobby's eyes welled up again, the tears spilling with renewed vigor, "Harry Potter is so kind and merciful!"

Harry reddened, "_Oh_, Dobby," he said helplessly.

"What is this?" asked a booming voice suddenly from the top of the staircase. The four people and the house-elf looked up to see Lucius Malfoy standing there on the balcony that joined the two half-circular staircases leading to the next story. Dobby gave a frightened squeak and disappeared with a loud crack. Lucius sighed and walked down the stairs, "That elf, I swear, he's more trouble."

"Uncle Lucius!" said Hermione, hands on her hips, "that's no way to talk about him!"

"Of course, Mya," he said appeasingly, "Well, Mr. Potter? What did you think of Godric's Hollow?"

Harry opened his mouth to speak but Draco interrupted him, "Lots of damn muggles!"

"It's a muggle town," said Harry, "Of course there are a lot of muggles!"

"They were everywhere though!" said Draco.

"They aren't going to contaminate you, Draco," said Hermione.

Draco crossed him arms and glared at everyone.

Lucius sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose, "What did _you_ think, _Mr. Potter_?"

"_I_ thought it seemed like a nice place. I wish their house were still there."

Lucius frowned, "Yes. They had a lovely place, if I remember correctly."

"You were at their house?"

"Once or twice," he said. "So, did you find anything?"

Hermione bit her lip, "There was a most interesting portrait."

"Of what?"

"The Founders," she said.

Lucius looked at her carefully. "What?"

"Let's go somewhere we can sit down," suggested Hermione, "We've been walking for hours and my feet are sore."

Lucius smiled and turned up the stairs. Hermione and Draco followed him without hesitation. Ron and Harry looked uneasily at each other, but followed when Hermione called after them. Lucius led them to the second floor and into the library where there were sofas and chairs to sit on.

Hermione sat down on the sofa and sighed in relief, "_Ah_, much better." Draco sat down next to her. Hermione smiled somewhat wickedly, kicked off her trainers, then span in her seat and put her legs in Draco's lap.

"May I help you?" he said, arching an eyebrow at her.

Hermione grinned hopefully and wiggled her feet.

Draco looked at her feet and then back at her, "You would like me to tickle your feet?" he said teasingly, and slightly evilly, "Well, alright." And then he proceeded to tickle the soles of her feet.

Hermione's peels of laughter rang out across the room, "Draco!" she said between laughs, "Stop! Stop, Draco!"

Draco smirked, "Stop? Stop what?" he continued tickling her feet.

"Please!" she begged breathlessly, tears streaming down her face, "I can't breathe!"

Lucius cleared his throat and shot a look at his son. Draco abruptly stopped ticking Hermione's feet and lay his hands across her legs as though he had been doing absolutely nothing. Lucius nodded and then sat down in the leather chair, facing the four teens. Harry and Ron sat down awkwardly on the sofa and waited for someone to say something.

Lucius cleared his throat, "Well?" he said, leaning back into the chair, "What happened at Godric's Hollow?"

Harry looked around the room and noticed that everyone was looking at him. He sighed, "Well, after we Apparated, we landed outside a house. There was a woman there who happened to have known my parents."

"What happened with the portrait?" interrupted Lucius, "I don't really care about some muggle woman."

Harry glared at him and leaned against the back of the sofa, "Nothing much."

"Look, Mr. Potter," said Lucius leaning forward and looking at him seriously, "What happened with the portrait?"

"He told us a way to identify a horcrux," said Hermione.

"He who?" asked Lucius.

"Salazer Slytherin," Hermione answered.

Lucius nodded and waved his hand, "How can you tell if it's a horcrux?"

Hermione pulled her legs from Draco's lap and leaned forward eagerly, "The journal! Do you still have it?"

Lucius looked at her confusedly, but nodded.

"Great! May I see it?"

Lucius sighed and eased his body out of the winged chair, "We have to go to the Black House."

Hermione looked at him strangely, "Why?"

"Because that's where the diary is."

Hermione nodded and stood up; she looked expectantly at the three boys still sitting. When none of them moved she folded her arms over her chest and frowned. Draco sighed, rolled his eyes and rose gracefully from the sofa, he shoved his hands in his pockets and looked at Harry and Ron. Harry nodded curtly and stood up, Ron hurried up after him. Lucius noticed that all were standing and exited the room, leading the small group back towards the front hall.

When they arrived there, the group of students looked at Lucius, awaiting orders. The sound of footsteps on the marbled hallway that lead under the circular staircase caused the party of five to turn and look into the darkness. The clicking of heels continued until Narcissa's slender form emerged from the shadows. She stopped when she saw the group, observed them for only a moment and then frowned. She crossed her arms and cleared her throat.

"So?" she said, "Where are you off to?"

"Black House," answered Lucius.

Narcissa arched an eyebrow, "For what reason?"

"You know for what reason, Narcissa," Lucius sighed, "We really must be going," and he Disapparated with the rustle of his cloak.

Narcissa gave a frustrated sigh and looked at Draco, Hermione and the other two boys, "Well? Oughtn't you be leaving? You wouldn't want to keep him waiting now, would you?" and with that she walked quickly back down the hallway through which she'd come, her skirts rustling and heels clicking in an annoyed fashion.

Draco looked down the hallway after his mother, then pinched the bridge of his nose between his fingers, "Alright, let's go. Father won't be happy if we keep him waiting."

Hermione nodded, raised her wand and pirouetted, leaving the foyer with a soft pop. Harry followed suit, then Ron. Draco left last, still cringing from Ron's reverberating crack that had bounced and echoed off the marble walls of the entrance hall.

When the group appeared in the front hall of the Black House, they were greeted by Lucius' stern face and Snape's sallow expression.

"Well?" said Snape, crossing his arms across his chest and lifting his chin, "finally decided to make an appearance, have we? How kind of you to join us."

"Pleasure is all ours," replied Draco with a smirk.

"Quite," answered Snape with a sniff. He observed the group and then turned on his heel, "Let's get this done then."

Snape led the group up the stairs to the sitting room on the first floor. When he entered the room, he glided over to the fireplace, leaned gracefully against it and waited for the rest of the group to enter the room. Lucius was last in the group; he firmly shut the door and locked it. He then proceeded to cast a silencing charm around the whole room. Hermione sat down on one of the sofas; Draco sat down next to her. Ron and Harry remained standing uneasily near to the door.

Harry watched Lucius Malfoy's actions cautiously, "Why are you doing that?"

Lucius paused momentarily and then continued waving his wand about, "Mr. Potter, have you ever heard of an eavesdropper?" he didn't wait for an answer but continued, "I'm trying to prevent anything we do from being heard by someone who isn't privy to the knowledge.'

"Someone who isn't privy to the knowledge?" echoed Ron, "Who isn't privy to the knowledge?"

"Anyone not in this room, Weasley," answered Snape curtly. He looked at his former students with a trace of disgust, "Now, Lucius tells me that you have learnt of a way to distinguish a horcrux," he shifted his weight, and focused his gaze on Harry, "How does one discriminate a horcrux from an ordinary object, Potter?"

Hermione sat up straight in her seat, looking anxiously between her former professor and best friend. She focused her worried gaze on Harry, her brow scrunched and eyes laced with concern. Her hands clasped tightly in her lap.

Harry's steely look was fixed on Snape, his eyes narrowed and his lips thinned to a line. He altered his stance and crossed his arms, "Well?" he said after a moment of silence, "Are you admitting that you don't know?"

Snape stiffened, "Don't know, Potter?"

"Are you saying you don't know the difference between Tom Riddle's diary and an ordinary little girl's diary?"

Snape's lips thinned, "Look, Potter," he said stalking towards Harry, "Whatever knowledge you have regarding horcruxes and their discovery is valuable to the Order and you are committing an act of treason by not telling us what you know!"

Harry regarded Snape coolly, "I don't trust you."

"This isn't about trust!" said Snape acidly, "This is about the preservation of wizard-kind! This is about the destruction of Voldemort!"

"If I can't trust the people I'm working with, why should I share any knowledge with them?"

"Harry?" said Hermione quietly, "You can trust Uncle Sev."

"Not now, Hermione," said Harry, flashing a discomforting glance in her direction. He turned his attention back towards Snape, "He's done nothing to earn my trust, nothing to earn Dumbledore's trust, as far I'm concerned. I do not share knowledge with traitors!"

Snape's eyes bulged, "I am NOT a traitor!" he said, hands clenched into fists, "I have done more for the Order than you could possibly know!"

"Harry," began Hermione, standing up from the sofa, "We've been over this, you know what Uncle Sev's done for the Order." She approached him and placed her hand gently on Harry's shoulder, "You know everything that has happened to him, you know everything that has happened to Uncle Lucius, you know these things."

Harry closed his eyes and drew in a deep breath, he looked at Hermione and frowned, "Knowing is different to accepting. I have heard you tell me over and over again what has happened to them, but they are both still Death Eaters. Death Eaters and traitors."

Lucius had sat down in one of the chairs and was observing Harry. He looked at Snape and then back to Harry, "Mr. Potter," he began, "while I understand you are unwilling to simply accept the fact that Severus and I are, in fact, on your side in this war you must come to terms with the fact that your friend is speaking for us and since you seem to be disinclined to believe us, I would have thought you would believe Mya. Her word is valid and sound, have you ever known her to misjudge someone?"

Harry looked cautiously at Lucius Malfoy, who was still seated in the threadbare wing-back chair, "No, sir," he finally said, "I haven't known Hermione to make mistakes like that."

"Precisely," said Lucius, "Now, Mr. Potter, while it may be difficult to place your trust in Severus and myself, please believe that we are only trying to help."

Harry looked at Lucius, eyes narrowed. He nodded, "Fine," he looked to Snape, "I still don't like you."

"I don't want you to like me, Potter," spat Snape, "All you need to do is work with me. Now, what did you learn about horcruxes?"

"There is a mark on the diary," said Hermione.

Severus switched his gaze to his niece, "A mark? What sort of mark?"

Hermione shrugged, "The mark is specific to the wizard. Where's the diary?"

Severus reached inside his robe and produced said diary. The cover was black, the remaining pages stained with muck from the Chamber of Secrets. The basilisk fang had been removed, but the hole that the fang had created was still there through the centre of the diary. There were scorch marks where the poison had burned away at the pages and the cover, the object had a slight scent of decay that reached even the furthest corners of the room.

"A mark, you say?" said Snape, looking over the cover of the diary. He flipped it this way and that, eyes carefully skimming all edges. He pulled his wand out of his pocket and he tapped the diary, "_Aparecium_," nothing happened.

Ron looked at the diary carefully, "I suppose it wouldn't just be like the Dark Mark, right?"

"Yeah, Weasley," sneered Draco, "The Dark Lord would mark his diary with the Dark Mark. I think that's it."

"Now, Draco," said Lucius, "At least he's offering suggestions."

Snape flashed a look of annoyance at Lucius, "There seems to be nothing on the diary. So whoever told you to look for a mark was obviously an imbecile."

"I'll bet Salazar Slytherin would love to be called an imbecile," said Ron nastily.

"You met him walking down the street, did you?" asked Snape, "He just happened to know that you were searching for horcruxes and shared this knowledge with you?" he smirked, "I find that highly unlikely, Weasley."

"Actually, Uncle Sev," said Hermione, "We spoke with Salazar Slytherin," she bit her lip, "You would've thought that the founder of the Slytherin House would be less—less—" she paused.

"Sociable?" offered Draco, "Gregarious?" he narrowed his eyes in thought, "Companionable?"

"Exactly," said Hermione, nodding, "Gregarious. He was a very gregarious person."

Ron slapped a hand to his face and groaned, "Gregarious?"

"Yes, 'fond of the company of others', gregarious," answered Hermione.

Harry just rolled his eyes, "If there is no mark on the diary then how will we know if any objects that could possibly be horcruxes are actually horcruxes?" he asked.

Hermione's face took on a pensieve look, "I think _reparo_-ing the diary would be a bad idea."

"I would not suggest that, Mya," said Lucius. He stood up and walked over to Snape's side, he plucked the diary from Snape's hands and started flipping through the pages, "I don't remember there being a mark on this diary, I'm sure I would've taken notice," he handed the diary back to Snape and looked at those assembled, "I'm going to head down to the kitchen and see if Mrs. Malfoy sent anything over for us to eat."

Snape followed Lucius out of the room, shutting the door behind them. Their footsteps faded away, leaving the four in silence.

Ron strolled over to the Black family tree which had recorded generations of Blacks. He was scanning the tree and let loose a cry of exclamation, "Hermione!" he said, turning back to face the group.

"Yes?"

"You're name is on this?"

Hermione looked at Ron blankly, "Well, of course it is," she said as though it were the most obvious thing in the world. She walked over to him, pulled out her wand pointed at Callidora Yaxley and Harfang Longbottom where a line descended below their names. Two names appeared, Airell, who had been born in 1933, and Arcturus, who had been born in 1935. The name Airell Longbottom was linked to a man by the name of Avery Kowal.

"The Longbottoms?" questioned Ron.

Hermione nodded again, "Neville is my second cousin," she pointed her wand at the line that descended from Avery and Airell Kowal. Three names appeared, Callidora (born in 1951), Taliesin (born in 1953), and a third daughter who had been still-born. Beside the Taliesin's name there was a small double line indicating a marriage, Hermione tapped on this. It showed a marriage occurring between Rassia Prince and Taliesin Kowal in June of 1975. Below that three names were spread out, Airell Kiora (born in 1976), Amelia Hermione (born in 1980), and Avery Taliesin (born in 1981). Hermione turned toward Ron, "See?"

Ron looked at the tapestry, mouth agape. He turned to Hermione, "You have a brother?"

Hermione's eyes widened, "That's all you thought was important about this?"

Ron shook his head, and paled, "It also means that you're related to ferret-boy."

Hermione rolled her eyes, "Hardly at all. I'm as related to Draco as I am related to you."

"We're related?"

"Yes," she looked around the room, "Actually, we're all fifth cousins, if you were really curious," she waved her hand, "Some of us may be slightly more related than others, considering inter-marriage, but at least according to the tapestry we're all fifth cousins."

Ron turned to the tapestry, "Where am I?"

Hermione frowned and examined the tapestry, "Well," she began, "you would be right here," she pointed to a blank space way below a burn mark, "But—"

"The Blacks decided they hated your family and," he mined pointing a wand at the tapestry and blasting away the name.

Ron's face fell, "_Oh_," was all he said.

Harry had leaned closer, "I'm on here?"

"You should be," said Hermione. She carefully examined the maze of lines and names and then smiled in triumph, "Here," she said, pointing to Dorea Black and Charlus Potter who'd had one son. "This is where you and I are related," and she traced the line from his name to hers.

Harry smiled, "I have a cousin who isn't a wanker."

Hermione flushed, "_Er_, thanks, Harry."

"Sorry, Hermione," he looked at the tapestry again, "So, what else can this thing do?"

"It just records the births, marriages and deaths of those that are a part of the Black family."

"When I marry, will that be recorded?" asked Ron.

"No," said Hermione, "your family was disowned."

Ron flushed angrily, and he stalked across the room mumbling.

"Will mine?" asked Harry quietly.

Hermione smiled gently, "Yes, your name somehow managed to survive obliteration by Sirius' mother."

Harry smiled, "I never thought that I would have family."

"You don't, Potter," said Draco from Hermione's right side, "everyone that is older than our generation is dead."

"Your parents are still alive, and so are Hermione's" protested Harry.

"Do you really want to admit to the world that we're related?" asked Draco skeptically, he cocked a brow. He looked back at the tapestry and said in an ironic voice, "Welcome to the world of Purebloods. You'll have a hard time finding someone that you aren't related to. It's nothing special. Half the students at Hogwarts are, in some way, shape or form, my cousin. It's only the muggle-borns that we aren't related to, and even that is a fallacy. Magic doesn't randomly crop up in some muggle, somewhere in that muggle-born's ancestry was a wizard. Just like squibs aren't really random phenomena, somewhere in the ancestry a muggle married into the family."

"Are you saying that muggles and wizards are different species?" asked Harry, looking slightly ill.

Draco looked at Harry, "No, but it is very complicated. The Unspeakables have published essays on the origins of wizards and the origins of muggles. If you have the time I really think you should read what they have to say, it's very interesting."

Harry looked strangely at Draco, "Thanks," he said slowly. Harry turned back to the tapestry, "What else can this tapestry tell us?"

"Nothing beyond our ancestors," said Hermione, "To be honest, if you would like to know the history of your family we'll have to stop by the Ministry of Magic. The Ministry of Ancestors keeps files on all wizarding families."

"Can you tell us some more about your family?" asked Ron, who had walked back to hear about squibs and muggle-borns.

Hermione smiled slightly, "There are a lot of things about my family, where should I start?"

Ron looked at the tapestry, "Does this thing trace back your father's line?"

"Yes," said Hermione. She walked forward and tapped on Taliesin Kowal's name, then on Avery Kowal's name, a series of lines and names suddenly appeared on the tapestry, replacing all the names of the Black family.

Ron made a soft, "_Oh_," sound and crept to look at the web of interconnecting lines that seemed to flow every which way. He used his finger to trace from Hermione's name all the way to the beginning of the tree, "Ulpia Traiana," he traced the line to the name of the person below, "Publius Aelius Hadrianus Afer," and then down to, "Publius Aelius Traianus Hadrianus," he turned to Hermione, "Who're they?"

Hermione walked over to Ron and pointed to the third name he mentioned, "Publius Aelius Traianus Hadrianus. He was better known by the name of Hadrian, he built the wall that separates Scotland from England, he was the Emperor of the Roman Empire from the tenth of August in 117, until the tenth of July in 138 when he died," Hermione looked at the tapestry, she pointed to the name next to Hadrian's, "Vibia Sabina was his wife, they married at the request of the Empress, the former Emperor's wife."

Ron looked carefully at Hermione, "What?"

Hermione sighed, "When Hadrian became Emperor he wasn't married, the woman who had been married to the former Emperor requested that they marry."

"_Oh_," was all that Ron said.

Hermione turned back to the tapestry, she pointed to the name below the Roman Emperor, "This man is their son. Spurius Aelius Orientus Traianus. According to muggle history, Hadrian didn't have a son, but what the muggles don't know is that Hadrian's son was a wizard and that he entered the wizarding world," Hermione looked carefully at the tapestry, "Of course, the name Spurius implies illegitimacy, so it is possible that he wasn't actually the son of Hadrian, or that he wasn't actually the son of Vibia. Of course, that was also almost two thousand years ago, it isn't really that important."

"You can trace your lineage back to Roman Emperors?" asked Harry unbelievingly.

"Most Pureblood families trace their roots to muggle royalty, dynasty, or aristocracy," said Draco, he smirked, "It works out that intermarriage breeds magic."

Ron looked at Draco aghast.

Draco sighed, "Actually, the reason that most purebloods are able to trace their roots to muggle aristocracy is that a muggle-born who came from a peasant family was usually killed. The higher classes liked to think it was a gift from God, divine right or some such nonsense. Of course, that also means that there was a wizard in the muggle-born's ancestry."

Harry frowned, "What is it that makes wizards different from muggles?"

Hermione turned to Harry, "I think we should sit down, this might take some time," she led the group back to the sitting area and fell into one of the chairs, "Now, sit down," she said. The boys obeyed, Draco slightly reluctantly, "Wizards and muggles," she began, "I suppose we could start with the beginning. There are two philosophies about how wizards and muggles were created. The first is almost an off-shoot of the muggle idea of Adam and Eve. The second is that wizards evolved separately from muggles, but share a common ancestor."

Harry pinched the bridge of his nose, "Start with the Adam and Eve story."

Hermione nodded, "In muggle theology, according to Judaism and Christianity, humans are the result of direct intervention from God who created man in his image, thus Adam and Eve. In wizard philosophy, God made Adam and Eve, first. Then after they committed the Original Sin, God saw that they were flawed and took their magical abilities from them, and sent them from Eden. This is the creation of Muggles. However, before being sent from Eden Eve gave birth to a baby girl. God refused to let this child suffer because of her parents' error and took the child from Eve. He named her Nova, meaning 'new' because this was a new attempt to create humanity. Nova grew from a precocious child into a beautiful young woman, and there came a time when Nova desired to met her parents and to meet a man."

"Nova grew up in Eden all by herself?" asked Ron, "with no friends?"

"Who could be a better friend than God?" asked Hermione.

Ron shrugged, "I don't know."

"God granted Nova permission to travel into the world of humans and see how they live," said Draco.

"I thought Nova was human?" said Harry.

"She was," said Draco, "So she went out from Eden to the land where her parents lived. By the time she arrived they were quite old, Cain had already killed Abel and Eve had given birth to Seth. Nova saw what weariness there was about her parents from working the land; she saw the Seth was a grown man who had married another. She also saw what her parents had sacrificed because they desired to gain wisdom. Nova took pity on her parents and cast a spell on them that would ensure that further generations of humans would not live to be over nine-hundred, as Adam was nine hundred and thirty years old when he died. She limited the human lifespan so that they would die younger, and have children younger."

"That's taking pity?" said Ron disgustedly, "Thank God that us wizards still have such long life-spans."

"Wrong," said Draco, "that average wizarding lifespan is one-hundred and seventy-five. Sure, there are some who live longer, and then are some that live shorter, but nine-hundred? Who do you know that old?"

Ron colored, "No-one."

"Precisely," Draco said with a smirk.

Hermione sighed, "So, Nova returned to Eden and spoke with God. She wanted children, and she wanted a man. God granted her wish; from the earth he made Aviv. Aviv and Nova went on to have a happy marriage and many children. These children grew up and desired mates, so God provided. And thus the origins of wizards."

Harry frowned, "Ask and it shall be given?"

Draco sighed, "Well, I must say that us wizards are much better at getting what we want than muggles are, aren't we?"

"That's because we have magic!" said Ron exasperatedly.

"What's the other theory?" asked Harry, "The one about evolution?"

Hermione nodded, "Well, there's this school of thought that wizards and muggles share a common ancestor, they evolved into these two similar species, but one has a different adaptation, magic."

Harry sat in silence for a moment, then looked at Hermione, "Why didn't we learn that at Hogwarts?"

Hermione looked at Harry, then sighed, "History of Magic, Harry—first year? Don't you remember?"

"No."

"It doesn't matter," said Draco, "It's not that important where we came from, what matters is that we're here now and that we have a problem."

Ron stood up and began pacing, "We need a strategy," he said, his hands clasped behind his back. He stopped after a moment and looked at the others, "We need more allies."

Hermione nodded, "I agree, but where can we get more? The purebloods are either too scared to go against Voldemort or they really believe what he's saying. The muggle-borns are too scared to go against him because they don't have any support."

Ron frowned, "What about magical creatures?"

Draco made a sound of disgust, "Them? Most are content to watch the wizards destroy themselves. The centaurs refuse to help us, trolls are too stupid, giants dislike wizards, and the gnomes go with whoever has the most money. So, wherever you turn, the magical creatures are either against us or are waiting for our destruction."

"That can't be true," said Ron, falling into one of the chairs, "How can they all want to see the destruction of wizards? Don't they know we protect them from muggles?"

"Do they care?" countered Draco, "No."

Harry stood up. He walked over to the fireplace, then to the window. He turned back to his friends, his eyes blazing, "It's like Snape said, this isn't about trust, it's about the survival of wizard kind, and these magical creatures are part of our world. If Voldemort destroys us he is destroying them as well. They don't have to like us, they just have to work with us. If it takes bribes, so be it. If it takes conniving, so be it. We need more people, more allies; we need just more of everything. We in this room can't stop Voldemort; it will take the whole of the wizarding world. This is no longer a problem confined to Britain; this is something that will affect everyone. If Voldemort conquers us, then the rest of the wizard world will fall soon after. Do you know anyone of power in other countries?" he asked, looking at Hermione and Draco.

Hermione smiled sadly and said, "Don't you think we've tried? It doesn't affect them directly yet, they don't care."

Draco nodded in agreement, "I've owled so many foreign Ministers of Magic that my owl is broomlagged. All respond in the same fashion, 'We regret what has befallen our fellow wizards, but are unable to interfere in your jurisdiction until such a time that it affects our people directly. Best of luck'."

"Best of luck?" said Harry disgustedly, "Best of luck? Best of effing luck? Who do they think they are? What are they thinking? Don't they see the news? Don't they know that Voldemort won't stop?"

"Do they care?" asked Draco, "No. It's like that Hitler bloke in Germany. Everyone tried appeasing him until they realized that he was serious about killing all the Jews, until they realized he was serious about conquering all of Europe. That's what they're doing now with Voldemort, those foreign ministers are sell outs. This isn't happening in their back gardens, nothing worries them, not until it's on their doorstep will they begin crying out for help, but by then it will be too late, too late to do anything because they didn't want to take care of the problem in the beginning." Draco cursed under his breath, "Bloody politicians."

Ron looked at Draco surprised, "But isn't that what your father is?"

Draco glowered at him, "Are you not yet aware that my father is hiding here, risking his very life to ensure that we can grow up to adulthood? Are you not yet aware that he is risking his life to save everyone in the wizard world? Do you not yet understand?"

Ron swallowed, "Sorry, Malfoy. It's just hard to get."

"Well, get it? Alright?"

Harry looked around the room, "It'd be great if we could get the goblins on our side."

"I know, Harry," said Hermione.

"Gringotts would be a great asset."

"It would, but they are waiting to see who wins. Wizards haven't been exactly kind to them in the past."

"Bloody goblins," said Harry under his breath, "Firenze would be helpful, but the other centaurs don't listen to him anymore."

"Centaurs are great archers," agreed Draco, "But they're pacifists, they won't fight in a war."

The door opened and everyone turned to look at it, Lucius walked in and said, "Mrs. Malfoy sent food over if you're hungry." He looked around the room and frowned, "What are you doing?"

"Just talking, dad," said Draco with a sigh.

"Anything interesting?"

"Just dead-end ideas," Draco replied. He stood up, "Let's go downstairs and eat something."

Draco walked out the door, followed by Lucius and Hermione. Harry and Ron came soon after. When they arrived in the kitchen, they found that Snape has set the table and spread out the dishes of food sent from Malfoy Manor. Mrs. Malfoy had apparently sent over some spaghetti bolognese and garlic bread, a simple meal but very filling. They all sat down at the table and filled their plates.

They ate in silence for a moment before Harry slammed down his goblet of pumpkin juice, "I can't believe these people!" he exclaimed.

"What are you talking about, Potter," drawled Snape as he cut his spaghetti.

Harry looked up at him, "I can't believe that foreign ministries are unwilling to help us defeat Voldemort! Don't they realize that he's a threat to everyone?"

Lucius looked up, "Do they realize? Yes. Do they care? No." He frowned, then pointed his fork at Harry, "You fail to remember that these people are caught up in themselves, they don't care about what is important."

"That is not entirely fair to them Uncle," protested Hermione after swallowing. She looked at him and said, "They care about what's important to them, and only to them. They don't care what's important to wizards as a whole."

"Point well taken, Mya," said Lucius with a nod, "They do well by their own people, but for wizard kind as a whole, for the good of us all, they seem to have forgotten what happened twenty years ago."

"Well, they'd be smart to remember," grumbled Draco.

Dinner continued in silence for several moments before Ron put his fork down and looked nervously around the table. He cleared his throat, coughed into his hand and looked around. No one noticed. He coughed again, and sneaked a look around. Nothing. He coughed louder this time.

"Yes, Mr. Weasley," sighed Lucius.

"_Oh_, Mr. Malfoy," said Ron nervously, "I, _er_, I have a question."

"Well?"

"_Er_, you see, well, the thing is," he coughed again, "The Blacks had this house elf—"

"—Kreacher," said Lucius, nodding.

"Well, when we were here with the Order, Kreacher was stealing things and he was taking news back to Mrs. Malfoy."

"Yes, he was."

"_Erm_, well, if you're on our side, why was he doing that?" Ron flushed, but held his gaze steady.

Lucius smiled, "My wife is a bit nosey," said he. Then he frowned, "But it was also a test for you."

"A test?" Ron moaned, "_Oh_, I don't like tests! Especially when I don't know I'm taking them!"

"Well, you earned T, Weasley," said Snape.

Ron moaned again, "A T!"

"You failed our test, Mr. Weasley," said Lucius, taking a sip from his goblet. He looked up at him then said, "We told you to be nice to Kreacher, you preceded to treat the poor creature despicably. And you wonder why magical creatures don't wish to take sides? Think about it, Mr. Weasley. Think about it." Lucius returned to his meal after that.

The meal ended quietly, Ron was still sulking after being told off by Lucius and Harry was fuming over a lack of international cooperation. Draco and Hermione were unbothered, but they were exchanging glances obviously concerning a meeting later between the two of them. Snape was eating the food and grimacing after each bite (he was unused to food that actually tasted good). Lucius was quiet, but blank, he was letting no emotions pass onto his face, but he was glad that Harry and Ron were able to be brought up to speed so quickly. There was still a ways to go, but overall, their progress was remarkable. He smiled slightly and returned to his meal.

Snape was the first to finish, he looked around the table and sneered, "I set, someone else clears. Good night." He glided silently out of the kitchen.

After the door shut Lucius stood up and stretched, "Well, have a nice night, boys. I suggest you all head to bed, we'll be waking up early in the morning. I have a lead on the horcruxes. Good night." He, too, left the kitchen, letting the door swing shut behind him.

Harry and Ron looked at each other, and then at Draco and Hermione. Ron put down his fork and stood up, "Right, that's me done! Night, lads," he fled from the room, leaving his dishes there on the table.

Harry swallowed, he stood, too, faked a yawn, "Well, I'm wrecked. See you in the morning," he too left the kitchen.

Draco looked at the door as it swung closed behind Harry. He turned to Hermione, "I guess we're on cleaning detail."

"Looks that way," she said with a sigh. She looked at her plate, "I'm not done yet anyway." She reached for another slice of garlic bread and dipped it into the marinara sauce, "But, cleaning up after dinner doesn't really bother me."

"Yeah," said Draco glumly, pushing some lonesome noodles around his plate, "Tell you what, you can clean up every night after dinner once we're married."

"Thanks, Draco," said Hermione sarcastically, "But, I think I'll leave that to the house-elves."

"What?" said Draco, "Those poor innocent creatures that deserve paid holiday and wages? Never!"

Hermione laughed and gave Draco a gentle shove, "Shut up, you!"

Draco grabbed Hermione's hand and smiled at her, "Do you really want me to shut up?"

"Yes."

"Really?"

"Yes, please."

"_Hmm_," said Draco thoughtfully, "I only know one way to make me shut up."

"Sew your lips together?"

"Nope, not what I had in mind," he answered with a smirk. He learned closer and grazed her lips with his, "Does that make it clearer?"

Hermione bit her lip, "No, I don't really understand you."

"_Hmm_, I'll bet you don't," Draco replied. He leaned in again and captured Hermione's lips, this time gently caressing. He placed his hand on the back of her head, losing his fingers in her curls.

Hermione made a sound and broke away, "I think I understand now."

Draco smirked, "I'll bet you do."

He leaned in again, but was stopped by Hermione's hand on his chest, "Draco, wait!"

"What?" he said, surprised. He looked curiously at her, "Mya," he said gently, "what's wrong?"

Hermione pulled out of his arms and stood up, she started clearing the dishes from the table in silence, placing them in the sink where they started washing themselves (Harry and Ron hadn't know that trick!).

Draco frowned and stood up from the bench besides the table, he walked over to Hermione, "Mya, what's wrong?"

"Draco," she said, "can you please help with the dishes? There are still more on the table."

"Mya," said Draco more forcefully, "what's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong! Please, help with the dishes."

Draco sighed. He pulled his wand from his pocket and levitated the remaining dishes into the sink, "There. Now, Mya, what's the problem?"

"Nothing is wrong with me!" Hermione turned away from him and began walking out of the kitchen.

Draco sighed with frustration, he pointed his wand at her, "_Locomotor mortis!_"

Hermione froze where she was, her legs stuck together, "Draco!" she said with a warning tone, "I want to get to bed. Let me go."

"Not until you tell me what the problem is."

"There is nothing wrong with me!"

"Amelia," said Draco seriously. He walked over to her and scooped her up in his arms. He walked out of the kitchen and down the hallway, "You're going to tell me what is the matter. Do you understand me?" he climbed the steps, "I deserve to know what has you so tense." He walked into his room and kicked the door shut behind him, "And I am going to know it before you leave my room, Do I make myself clear?"

"Draco Thuban Malfoy!" said Hermione, "You have no right to do this! Put me down!"

"Gladly," said Draco. He dropped her.

Hermione squealed, but sighed when she felt the bed under her. Then she glared at him, "Now, I want you to perform the counter-curse, then I am going to my room and I am going to bed."

Draco looked down at her, "No, I don't think that's how this is going to work," he brought the chair over from the desk and sat down in it, legs straddling the back, arms crossed over the top of the back of the chair. He frowned at her and said, "Something is bothering you and I want to know what it is and if there is anyone that I should be talking to or beating up."

Hermione looked aghast at him, "There will be no beating up of anyone!"

"I'll make that decision," he said seriously. He sighed and ran his hand through his hair, "Amelia, what's the problem? Come on, Mya, tell me."

Hermione sighed, and then rolled onto her side, her back to Draco. She was silent for a moment but then she spoke up, "I don't want you to hate me."

Draco's jaw dropped, "What?" He got off the chair and sat down on the bed next to her. He leaned over her and placed his hand on her hip, "Mya," he said, gently tugging her so she was on her back, looking up at him. He was alarmed to notice that her eyes were overbright. "Mya!" he said in surprise, "Mya, honey, what's wrong?"

She took in a shuddering breath, one tear leaked from her eye and fell down her temple and was lost in her hair, "Please promise not to hate me!"

"How could I hate you?" he said bemused.

"Please?"

"Mya, I love you! I could not, would not, would never hate you!"

She nodded, another tear escaped, "It hurts."

"What hurts? Mya, are you injured?"

She shook her head, and touched her heart, "It hurts."

"Mya, what's wrong?"

She sat up, her cheeks and nose red and blotchy, she looked at him, "I still love Ron!" she said quietly.

Draco sighed, and looked to her, "Mya, I know that."

She nodded, "It hurts knowing that I can't be with him."

"Look, Mya," he said, turning towards her, "I know that you still love him. I've accepted that fact, ever since you told me."

She nodded again, silent and tearful. She looked up at him with her wet eyes and cheeks, red and splotchy, and he fell in love with her all over again. She offered a small smile and said, "I love you, too, Draco."

He pulled her into a hug, head against his shoulder, his hand rubbing her back, the other on her head, "_Oh_, Mya, I love you so much."

She nodded into his shoulder, but a sob escaped, "I'm sorry! I'm so sorry," she whispered.

"_Shh_, _shh_," he said, rocking her back and forth, "Don't be sorry. Come on now. Let me run you a bath, alright?"

She nodded, then hiccupped.

Draco smiled to himself, but then a thought crossed his mind, a dark thought, he stopped moving for a moment. He grabbed Hermione's shoulders and looked at her in the face, "Mya," he said seriously, "I need you to answer one question for me."

She nodded.

"When you kiss me, do you think of him?"

Hermione's mouth dropped, she looked horrified, "No! God, no!"

Draco breathed a sigh of relief, "Thank Merlin," he said quietly. He stood up from the bed, took his wand from his pocket and performed the counter curse. Then he grabbed her hand and pulled her along with him, "Come on, let's draw you that bath."

He entered the bathroom and sat her down on the toilet lid. He turned the taps until a steady stream of crystal clear, steaming hot water pour out, filling the basin of the bath. He turned to Hermione and smiled, "Mademoiselle, your bath awaits."

She offered a weak smile, "Thank you, Draco. You always know just what I need."

Draco smiled softly in return, "I'm your best friend, I should hope so."

She only nodded, and began stripping off her clothing. She and Draco had grown up together, there was very little they didn't know about each other. He helped her into the tub, then sat down behind it and began giving her a back rub. She made a sound deep in her throat, "That feels nice."

"I could show you the world with these hands," he said quietly.

"Not from back there you can't," said Hermione. She tilted her head back and looked into his eyes, she reached her hand around his head and pulled him in for a kiss. When she let go, her eyes were dark, "Get in here."

Draco's eyes widened, "Mya, I'm not sure if that's what you want right now."

She frowned, "Take off your clothes, Draco Malfoy."

He looked at her, "Mya," he said gently, taking her hand in his, "The bath isn't the best place."

She grinned at him, "_Oh_, I know that. Take off your clothes."

He frowned, but stripped down to his underwear.

"Now," she said, a glimmer of mischief in her eye, "Spin."

"Spin?"

She nodded, twirling the index finger of her right hand in a circle, "Spin for me."

Draco span in a circle and looked curiously at her.

She grinned again, "_Mmm_, yes. Now, flex."

"Flex?"

"Yes, I want to see my fiancé's muscles."

Draco looked curiously at her, but not being able to resist a perfectly willing audience he flexed his muscles: biceps, triceps, quads, calves, abs, and back. He flexed them all, and grinned every time Hermione made an approving sound. He looked at her sitting there in the bath and then grinned evilly down at her.

Hermione eyed him warily, "What?"

"Get out."

"Get out?"

"Yes," he said with a smirk, "now it's my turn to be the audience."

Her jaw dropped, "Draco!"

"No, no, no need to thank me," he stripped off his underwear and slid into the water next to Hermione, his legs next to hers. He wrapped an arm around her waist, "Unless you'd prefer me to just feel everything," he whispered in her ear.

Hermione swallowed. Then she flipped around so she was straddling his legs, "You know how it all feels, Draco."

"Of course," he said quietly, leaning forward and kissing her ear, "And I can't get enough." His hands were placed lightly on her thighs and he moved his mouth to hers, "I can't get enough," he said again before covering her mouth. He kissed her, his tongue sliding along her bottom lip, begging entrance, which she granted.

She shifted her position causing Draco to groan. She smirked nastily against his mouth and moved her hips again. He groaned again and pulled away from her, his eyes closed. She donned an innocently worried look, "Is something wrong, Draco?"

He opened his eyes and peered at her, "You can be an evil wench sometimes, do you know that?"

She smiled naughtily at him, "Sometimes, dearest?"

He nodded, "You give and take and tease so much."

"Who said I'm teasing this time," she whispered into his ear, nibbling on the outside of it.

Draco frowned, he placed his hands on her shoulders again and pulled her away from him, "Look, Mya, I don't want you to feel like you have to prove anything to me."

She nodded, "I know that Draco, but I want to. I want you to know that I love you. I want you to know that I do want to be your wife. I want you know that I will always be there for you, always be your best friend, always be your lover."

He smiled at her, "Mya," he said tenderly, smoothing her hair, "I know that, already."

"But I want to prove it!"

"You have proven it to me. I know you're waiting."

"I've waited long enough."

"Are you sure?"

Hermione nodded to him, "I am deadly serious. I want you, and I want you right now."

Draco's eyes darkened, "Say that again."

"I want you, and I want you right now," she looked at him carefully, "Please, Draco?"

"Alright, then," he said. He looked at her, "Let's get out of the bath and dried off. If we're going to do this, we're going to do it properly."

She smiled at him and draped her arms around his neck, then kissed him on the cheek, "I love you!"

He smiled and ran his hand down her torso, "I love you, too, Mya. Now, get off me so we can move."

She stood up, water dripping down her body and climbed out of the tub. Draco followed after her and stood there next to her. He passed her a towel and grabbed one himself, they both began to dry off, Hermione wrapped a towel around her body. She looked expectantly at Draco who was arranging his hair in the mirror over her head.

"Alright, kiddo, let's go," he said, draping an arm over her shoulder.

"Can I dry I hair first?" she asked.

Draco sighed, he leaned down to his discarded trousers and pulled his wand from the pocket. He flicked it at her head, her dripping wet hair dried instantly, "There, now let's go," he said again, steering her out of the bathroom and into the bedroom.

Hermione stopped, "Wait, I need my wand!"

"Why? Whatever for?" cried Draco.

"We don't want any little accidents from this, do we?" asked Hermione pointedly, her arms akimbo.

"Well, no," said Draco, ruffling her hair. He looked at her, "Do you know a spell for that?"

She nodded, "I read up on them." She walked back into the bathroom and rummaged around in her trousers for her wand.

"You read up on them? How long have you been planning on this?" Draco called from the bedroom.

"A while," she said from the doorway, her wand in hand. She unwrapped the towel and pointed her wand at the lower portion of her stomach, "_Contracepto!_" a blue flash spread itself around her stomach and sank into her flesh, she looked up at him, "Now you. Come here."

Draco walked reluctantly towards her, rather scared to have her pointing a wand _there_. He swallowed nervously, "Are you sure you know what you're doing?"

Hermione nodded, "Towel." Draco dropped his towel and looked nervously at Hermione. She pointed her wand at him, "_Preservatif!_" She looked up and smiled, "There, now we're safe!"

Draco breathed a sigh of relief, it hadn't even hurt, "That's a handy spell, where did you learn it?"

Hermione blushed, "I read it in a book somewhere."

"What book?" said Draco with a teasing grin.

"Just a random book, you know. I read so many, it's hard to keep track."

"What book, Mya?" he asked, nearing her.

She blushed deeply and mumbled something under her breath which caused Draco to laugh, "_The Joy of Magical Sex_? You actually read that book?"

"Hey!" she said indignantly, "I was curious!"

Draco wrapped his arms around her waist, pressing their bodies close, "That's what I'm for, Mya."

Hermione flushed deeper, "Well, I…I…was scared to ask you."

"Why?"

"Because, I didn't want to seem unschooled."

Draco looked at her curiously. He put a finger under her chin and tilted her head up, "Mya, there's nothing wrong with not knowing." He smiled at her, "In fact, let me tell you a small secret."

Hermione nodded.

"I've been waiting for you to be ready."

"Waiting for me?" she asked, looking at him curiously.

He nodded, "Yes, I was waiting for you."

"But all those girls at Hogwarts…"

"Are liars," he replied, "I want you and only you."

She gave him a weak smile, "Alright, let's learn together." She pulled away and walked over to the bookcase.

"What in the world are you doing?" asked Draco.

She pulled a book down and walked back over to him with a smile, she turned to a page, "Now," she said, "This looks good."

Draco looked at the page and then looked at her. He smiled and pulled her close, kissing her on the head, "Let's start at the beginning."

Hermione frowned, "Well, I suppose that'd be wise." She flipped to the first page and looked up at him, "Well?"

He smiled, "Yes, I think we can do that."

**Please _Read_ and _Review_!!!**

Ah, well? Good? Bad? Indifferent? Sorry for such a long wait, but I hope this chapter was enough to suffice for my lack of updates. But, like I said, school caught up with me. I had two essay due last week, two the week before, one the week before that. I went to Paris for a weekend. My life has been hectic! But fun (minus the schoolwork, of course). I have seriously been writing this chapter in little bits and pieces for the past month or so, that's why it took so long. Please forgive me!

I should be able to have more updates in the coming weeks, I have one more week of school until the Christmas hols and then after that three weeks of nothingness until exams, joy! Anyway, hope you enjoyed that bit there at the end, I felt that you deserved some DM/HG (or should I say AK!) interaction, especially since I've made you wait so long. I will never finish a scene like that, so you'll have to use your imagination, I'm sure you can come up with something far more creative in your head than I could describe on paper (and there's nothing wrong with that :D ).

Btw, the chapter itself is 8,974 words (excluding author's notes, and is 24 pages, ridiculous!)

Btw, again, SpagBog is slang for spaghetti bolognese, if you didn't guess that.

_KaytiSarai_


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